Revolution
by bertrum123
Summary: Iggy and Lemmy, along with their siblings, struggle through life as the King grows evermore terrible. Is he truly their father? Or has he been hiding the truth for years? Rated M - Dark undertones and violence.
1. The Beginning

**I have learned an unbelievable amount of things in the past six months. I'm going to put them to use, and revamp this to quite a large degree. If you have read this story before, I heartily recommend joining me as it is revitalised. Alternatively, if you are new, I can also recommend you stick around! This story has a progressive storyline, and only gets better as it continues.**

**Please, feel free to review. Even if it's one word, it shows you cared, and this helps my motivation substantially.****  
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**This story is all about Iggy and Lemmy, and written from Iggy's point of view. I hope you enjoy it, as I have had such a ridiculously fun time writing this on the whole.**  
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Also, the cover for this story was drawn and coloured by Pissed off Canadian, as he is known on this site. Look up his writing, it's amazing. I also feel the need to explain that he's one of the only reasons that my motivation continued to spike; he's largely the reason this story still exists.  
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**Characters belong to Nintendo.**

**Currently rewriting the first few parts.  
****Beginning - Complete.  
****Iggy's Insanity Part One - Complete.**

**May it begin!**

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_Prologue: Meeting Lemmy_

The openings of my life, as well as that of my siblings, are shrouded and unknown. Locked within the deepest darkness of dilapidated castle walls; waiting to be uncovered. There is little precision regarding our origins – altered truths veil corroboration; Bowser's gambit runs deep. Despite the fact we are lacking in knowledge of who our Mother was, he attempts to feign we are his flesh and blood.

Bowser Junior's spontaneous existence kindled dying flames; suppositions piecing together potential falsities regarding Bowser's precarious account of our lineage immediately initiated. Upon the announcement revealing Junior's succession to Bowser, the flames raged, unmitigated. Ludwig voiced the chagrin fuelled opinion of us being separate adoptions.

Bowser Junior's seemingly inexplicable arrival demanded additional speculation, comprised of our truant Mother. Wendy disdainfully attempted to rebut Ludwig's theories, suggesting Junior's Mother birthed us, and preferred solitude. This presumption matched Wendy's scornful personality, and while it was difficult to assimilate, it was feasible.

Discussions tackling these postulations took place collectively, but stipulations were required, ensuring Roy was outwith close proximity. Roy's animosity doubled in circumstances questioning Bowser. Avoiding confrontation with him was considered important, even for Ludwig.

Our surreptitiously convened debates often descended into churlish arguments between Ludwig and Wendy while Lemmy; Larry and I tried to avoid bursting into spasms of laughter. Morton, the glutton who fails to retain silence, attempted to disappear in these situations; decreasing his inordinate mass to evasive levels.

"_Our genetics, builds and general personalities all differ, incredibly so, to Bowser; Bowser Junior is literally his double. It's a simple subject to understand, yet you can't seem to grasp it_," Ludwig would snap, glaring at our sister.  
"_It's nothing more than coincidence. Anyone with half a functioning brain could tell you that_," Wendy would spit back.  
Acerbic attempts at psyching the other out would proceed, followed by awkward involvement from either of them, "_What do you guys think_?"

It was common under these circumstances for agreement to favour Ludwig; we disregarded our own opinions, considering his aura of antagonism outmatched Wendy's. We each tolerated Wendy's unwavering determination to defend Bowser's motives, and opportunities to rebut her ludicrous notions rarely occurred. Lemmy was convinced her opinions were an apathetic appeal to Bowser's non-existent generosity, and an attempt at winding Ludwig up. It seemed likely.

Our speculations were disregarded by Bowser, likely considered insubordinate musings. What transpired to constrain us within his haphazard care remained unknown – his vagueness and evasion were steadfast under inquiries.

"_I am currently executing a well-planned offensive; I have little time for this right now, do not bother me with such frivolous mediocrities. I am planning Mario's demise, not running a daycare_."

Bowser's darkened tendencies were discovered as adolescence gripped the eldest. Compassion and affection we originally deemed rarities, but his abhorrence became apparent; we were no longer his children, rather his pampered slaves. Barely mature enough to contemplate the degradation enforced by war, we were pitted against Mario.

Unresolved theories branch into obscurity, compounding the unusual aspects. As a race, our memories are unparalleled; common Koopas are able to recall the beginnings of their life. Despite this standardised fact, we lack this precedence. The memories required to corroborate our birth are blank; arguably tampered with. One of Ludwig's newer suspicions, considered wild, involves Kamek.

Kamek is a wizened alchemist, ripened with age, and his experience correlates thus. His knowledge of alchemical ingredients and their functions is unrivalled, as is his wizardry. Ludwig has suggested he previously utilised these expertise for more than influential assistance on the battlefield.

Evidence explaining our incongruous beginnings may never be provided. But our endless pursuit of answers may never cease, for seeking answers opposing Bowser's would justify mutiny, should their disclosure galvanise the masses. And after all, we yearn to perceive whether or not we are truly Bowser's Koopalings.

Despite our forgotten conception, embedded within my early memories lies the fated meeting of my favourite brother and me. How the subsequent bond we forged outmatched even the mightiest of tempered steel. It has been common knowledge and the source of unduly amounts of gossip within the castle for years. Succeeding the moment Lemmy and I locked eyes for the first time, something connected us in a way unable to be elucidated in words.

When just a dependent baby, crying was an issue of extreme severity: I cried an unusual amount – my requirement of constant attention was insatiable, and my misery failed to abate upon satisfaction being delivered.

I remember the attention I received was a requisite enforced by Bowser; whoever was attempting to mitigate my misery was under strict instructions to suppress my uproar, by almost any means necessary. Apparently this failed to mesh with my intelligent mind, so I exploited the intrinsic traits of a distraught child.

Everyone who made several clinical attempts at calming me ended up burning out, inevitably reaching the end of a very long tether. Weeks passed, to no avail. Not only were they debilitated by my incessant crying, but petrified of Bowser's potential wrath, should they continue to disappoint him. The tyrant King harboured a fierce aversion to failure.

For reasons unknown, introductions to my siblings had been deferred, presumably due to my crying. But one fateful evening, as the evanescent sun started to wane; replaced by obsidian skies, Lemmy perceived my existence. He heeded my calls; my anguished cries for companionship. He attempted to locate the source of the commotion, eventually catching a glimpse of me through a compact crack revealing me within a claustrophobic room I had effectively been dumped in.

I was lying in a cot, dejected and crying, having been abandoned by Bowser, who warned me of the consequent punishment inflicted on those who disobey rules. I was charged with remaining quiet while he worked.

Lemmy, being uncommonly agile even in the earliest stages of youth, managed to detect a convoluted method of surmounting my prison. Tears had streamed from my eyes for an indeterminate number of horrific days, unmitigated by the impratical interventions. But after my reddened, puffy eyes landed upon my brother, my crying ceased. He was smiling brilliantly at me.

He lifted me gently, cradling me in his arms. I recall him crooning softly into my ear, but the words are muffled and indiscernible. Despite that, the feeling of ecstasy that enveloped me can still be accessed. My primary example of contentment. The attention I received from Lemmy was in no way contrived; it satisfied my attainable requirements.

He oscillated his hand through sparse tufts of hair sprouting on my diminutive head. I responsively started laughing, unprecedented since my ill-fated arrival in the hallowed halls of Bowser's horrific castle.

Numbing hours passed, as I rested in lemmy's angelic arms. Disconcerted by the distinct lack of noise emanating from my temporary chambers, a Koopa performing rounds hastily notified Bowser.

Despite Bowser's earlier ultimatum demanding silence, as entered he seemed fearful, perhaps fearing potential injuries. He frantically shook his head, scanning all factions of the chambers save for my cot, bracing himself for a fatality. As his eyes searched the cot, landing on Lemmy and me, they narrowed. I recall him angrily and abrasively barking at Lemmy.

He removed my older brother from the cot. And, as I witnessed the solitary source of categorical jollity being usurped from our newly established throne, the tide crashed around me once more: I was howling with intensity trivialising my previously witnessed uproars. Bowser glanced incredulously between the two of us before experimentally placing Lemmy back in my cot.

Lemmy instantaneously disregarded his misery, attempting with freshened resolve to console me, his eyes faintly tearful after Bowser's unjustified scalding. My laughter erupted forth, and his eyes lightened considerably.

Bowser turned, staring distractedly at the opposite wall. He seemed uncertain as he whirled, facing us once more. He opened his mouth, but closed it, abandoning his statement. Deciding my silence outweighed Lemmy's disobedience, he allowed our amity to continue. With a billowing sweep of his black cloak, he evacuated the room; mumbling as he went.

After our blight eventually dispersed, and the door was secured behind him, Lemmy wrapped his arms around me, picking me up anew. I cheered in elation, having bested our bane. Lemmy started elevating my positioning, rocking me in a methodical fashion. I accordingly drooped into partial unconsciousness due to the soothing tempo of his game. Having received little sleep prior to that moment took a large toll.

Lemmy noted my sudden lack of response, and lowered me into his lap. He started humming an alluring melody, rocking me gently. I slipped into a dreamless slumber in his arms, dead to the corrupted world until daybreak.

This is the foundation of my accessible memories; the first available for recollection. To this day, it remains my favourite. But little did Lemmy and I realise within our one moment of fleeting triumph – our inadvertent war waged with Bowser was merely in its infant stages.


	2. Deterioration

_**Chapter One: Iggy's Insanity**_

I awakened spread-eagled on my back, beneath a flurry of iridescent radiance – there were lights of all colours weaving and waving in a celestial dance. The sudden assault breached the threshold of comfort, causing me to squint in agitation.

Confused as to the reasoning behind my current situation, I cocked my head, viewing either side of me. The terrain I was currently strewn across lacked solidity, but also flexibility, as though I was lying in a lush field.

It lacked every other correlation with a pasture, however: the ground lacked any form of notable texture, and was coloured with a tint of white purer than freshly fallen snow. The entirety of the area was white, seemingly, and... vacant. I was most certainly no longer within my familiar chambers.

I allowed myself some time to adjust to the surreal surroundings before standing, grimacing in the dazzling light. I pivoted on the spot, scanning the horizon for signs of life; something captured my attention, closing in from the distance. I observed what appeared to be the silhouette of a Koopa appearing out of the glare. Narrowing my eyes, I attempted to distinguish further details within the harsh light.

"H-hello?" I called, but the figure evidently could not hear me. Its outline appeared to shimmer and alter, matching the radiant lights; giving it a jagged appearance. I pondered my options for a moment, and concluded a varied approach. Raising both arms, I started frantically waving in the direction of the outline. I had an overwhelming and urgent desire to forge contact with someone, something, in this baffling setting. Hopefully this apparition knew this location, and its secrets. Perhaps it could also divulge the basis of our appearance here.

I closed my eyes for a moment, contemplating the possible reasons for myself, and an assumption soon came to the forefront.

_I'm dreaming._

This was abruptly cast aside, however. My cognitive process was too advanced, making it impossible to confirm.

I ceased gesticulating considering the silhouette took no heed of me; it was no longer travelling in my direction. It had turned, intent on traversing the uninhabited wastes eternally – its journey led it left. After further scrutiny, I determined following would serve some purpose. Perhaps that was its aspiration.

The probability of imminent danger was improbable, granted I displayed heightened caution. And so I followed suite, mimicking it; travelling parallel. I retained some distance, ensuring ample breadth separated us. The lack of contact caused anxiety to affect my perception; the entire situation ensured I considered every possibility. A wide berth was imperative, should things turn sour.

Seconds, minutes, hours may have transpired as our expedition into outlandish territory continued. We walked perpetually straight, refusing to modify our trajectory even slightly. The ominous silhouette did not once acknowledge my pursuit.

No changes struck me; the ethereal plane was an infinitely desolate expanse. At an earlier stage forgotten, my cognizance dwindled as constricting levels of exhaustion overtook me. Beads of inevitable perspiration now trickled down my temples. The exhaustion was compounded by the scorching heatwave filling the plane from an undetectable source.

The intensity of gravity encompassing the area rapidly amplified; continuing to stagger after the Koopa seemed arduous. Every step encouraged a perturbed groan from my hanging mouth. My breathing deteriorated into rasps, and my eyes increased in weight, causing them to droop. Disregarding my degrading physical state, I tried my best to summon sufficient levels of concentration.

In my deteriorated state, it occurred to me that the silhouette may have aspired to deplete my energy levels, planning something of detriment. While questioning its motives, the features I failed to detect within its blackness alarmed me. It lacked substance; I was unable to ascertain its meticulous details, as it harboured little physical form.

Pre-emptively, before panic struck, I dismissed my misgivings. I was trailing after the solitary life-form I had discovered within this abyss. The thought of being abandoned within this forsaken fantasy terrified me further than potential provocation. The silhouette seemed benign, and lacked malignant intent thus far.

My acquaintance had noticeably gained distance on me; it was barely within viewing distance. I attempted to quicken my stride in pursuit, but was constrained by further resistance. The force eventually overpowered me; I succumbed to the gravity, crumbling to my knees. Even sustaining my head's position proved a stupendous struggle: my bodyweight had tripled. With my hands sprawled out horizontally, I attempted to elevate my head, determined to locate the silhouette. Perhaps it was affected, too.

The solitary shadow was affected by something, but its circumstances were different. The blackened blob was expanding; it was no longer discernible as a Koopa. Without warning, an unprecedented barrage of piercing cries flooded the barren expanse. I attempted to muffle the excruciating noise by covering my ears, but my arms were compelled to the ground by my ever-increasing weight.

My functions were severely limited, reducing my available options to naught. Nothing was possible, forcing me to observe and listen in horror as the silhouette expanded. My muscles tightened, tensing in agony as the hollow screeches reverberated around translucent walls, intensifying the volume. I doubled my efforts, knowing the importance of fleeing; I needed to move. I needed to _escape_; it was expressed to me emphatically, the Koopa wished me dead. Nothing was functioning – my body refused to respond.

But, precipitously, everything grinded to a painful halt.

The screaming dissipated with no echo to accompany its disappearance, making me question its existence. The intensified gravity returned to its original density. The hellish Koopa ceased expanding – in its place was a foreboding citadel of darkness, standing bleakly against the horizon.

I placed both hands either side of me, pushing against the ground for momentum. My body was still fairly unresponsive, but standing was bearable. My eyes darted all directions as I stood, confused and trembling. Although my eyelids were burdened with exhaustion, I turned my head from left to right; desperately seeking external assistance. I required circumvention, and felt incapable of doing so alone. With the threat of repetition looming over me, I started to despair.

The dark bastion hissed, forcing my attention upon it. Sudden urges entered my mind as I stared at the beguiling gloom. It emanated serenity, which snatched top priority. I gingerly stepped towards it, and it shimmered with vivacious encouragement. It was beckoning to me, so I continued to drunkenly stumble in its direction. As I progressed, an indiscernible voice whispered into my being.

"Come closer, it's all right. Here your troubles will cease... It's all right..." The voice was soothing; calming. I found an irrefutable sense of security coursing through my body, willing me to get closer.

As the distance between the citadel and me depleted, though, a secondary disembodied vocalisation called out with panicked intonation. It invaded the back of my mind, warning me.

_Flee! Do not let it capture you!_

It overpowered my seemingly impervious preceding desires, and I attempted to pause, but an unrevealed force prevented me. My stomach churned as my decreasing control accentuated the magnitude of the situation: I would be swallowed by the inevitable, crushing darkness.

"It's all right," the voice repeated, in a sickeningly soothing, yet horrifying tone; "here your troubles will cease to exist. Come closer." I forced my attention to separate locations, hoping to break its manipulative ensnarement of me, but my legs were external to my desires; continuing to travel towards my impending doom.

I hopelessly glanced at my surroundings again, knowing I would discover nothing of use. The blackened blobs were spreading from their stronghold; the majority of the area was engulfed by corruption. The luminescence originally dancing in the skies had fled, leaving behind a grey hue in its wake.

"It's all right. Come here." The whispers sliced through my thoughts, impelling me to focus my consciousness on their source.

The range separating us was no longer substantial; panic ingrained itself in me, spreading like a virus. I flailed my arms wildly at all angles in a ludicrous attempt of escaping the bind that captivated my being. I cried out, but my efforts were trivial: my throat was withered by thirst, causing my screams to catch; sending an uncomfortable shudder coursing through my body.

"Just a little bit closer."

Perspiration weaved its way in an erratic pattern down the contours of my neck. My face's temperature increased as I reddened from the excessive exertion. But nothing was stopping me.

"Closer... Come here."

I was within the confines of the fortress, and blackened smoke voraciously spiralled beneath my feet. It was eager to consume me. Tears threatened to overwhelm me – I was utterly helpless.

"Closer!" The intensity of the voice heightened; its original softness dissipated, replaced with malice.

"_Closer_!" The words echoed around my head, getting progressively louder and deeper. The roar of a desperate beast, waging war with my inner consciousness.

The sinister vapour circled my waste in a deliberately tantalising fashion. It showed no intention of ceasing this madness, continuing to rise as I unwillingly delved deeper into the abiding abyss. I let out another strangled screech, attempting to source salvation once more.

Amused by my pitiful attempts, diabolical laughter permeated the citadel, ringing within my ears, vibrating to the depths of my soul. The subordinates of darkness engulfed my arms. I flailed anew, attempting to push the ruinous force away, and the smog with it. As my attempts proved useless once more, the laughter increased exponentially in volume; continuing its mockery. It disgusted me I was considered struggling prey.

The pernicious smoke enveloped my shoulders. My attempts of escaping proved hopeless, and ever decreasing in effectiveness: all my energy was sapped; my body, fettered by fatigue. I had been prepared thoroughly for the slaughter house; lured, into the most devious of traps.

A frustrated moan escaped my lips, as my grip on reality slackened – I presumed this was how I would die. The smog circled my head; the psychotic laughter intensified further – my own laughter. My head would surely split open from the agony. Darkness obscured my vision-

"Iggy?" My eyes shot open. Sustained above me - in such a position he was encasing me - stood my older, yet smaller brother, Lemmy. He was observing me with deep concern and dismay etched into his generally carefree face. I was covered in a layer of moisture; tears stained my face. I was trembling violently – I was a wreck.

"Are you all right!?" I was incapable of responding; trapped within a semi-permanent state of trauma. My vocal chords had deserted me. I settled instead for expressing myself with bodylanguage. I raised an arm, an apologetic grin on my face; indicating I would recover. Lemmy exhaled a grateful sigh of relief, and altered his positioning, sitting beside me. Worrying him with scrupulous details of my near-death experience would be meaningless. I prioritised informing him after contemplating it to some form of understanding, myself.

I blindly readjusted my head's orientation, seeking Lemmy. He shuffled closer, allowing me to ensconce myself on him. He had duly noted my distress, but refrained from inquiring. Within a quickened minute his arms were wrapped around me; my head pressed firmly to his chest. My breathing was returning to a healthier state – it was no longer coming out in rasps.

Listening to Lemmy's methodical breathing cleared my mind; escorting it back to reality. Feeling the gentle beat of his heart regulated my previously panicked one. Waves of tranquillity pulsated throughout my body. Guilt threatened my security – I was relying on our intimacy while covered in perspiration. But his worried expression absolved me – he was concerned only for my safety.

Extended minutes transpired, in which I contentedly breathed in time with Lemmy, before I located my voice. "Thank you, Lemmy," I whispered, gazing up at him.

"You really needn't thank me. I'm relieved you're not trembling any more. I assume your condition has improved, now?" he asked. Remaining asperity rang within his words, derived of panic. I sat motionlessly for a moment; weighing up my options.

Ultimately, I concluded informing Lemmy would benefit me. His ability to assuage the force driving malice was unparalleled. But I required cleansing of the filth latched upon my body, especially considering I still needed contemplation time to fully process my experience.

"Yes, my condition has improved considerably. Thank you. I'll justify the reasons behind my vulnerability," I said, smiling; "if you could permit me time to restore my dignity, first," I finished flippantly, attempting to uplift the mood for Lemmy's sake.

It yielded the desired affect as he grinned. "Well, I suppose so, since it's you." I laughed, even if half-heartedly. Lemmy rarely failed to raise my spirits.

I gestured, suggesting I would return shortly. I then attempted standing, but the sudden physical extremity caused the walls to revolve at odd angles; my balance melted. I stood in place, shaking like a leaf caught within a brisk autumn breeze. Lemmy placed a supportive hand upon my back to prevent me from collapsing onto the mattress.

"Do... you require my assistance?" he asked, staring at me with dilated eyes. His concerned expression reappeared, and I knew accepting his help was inevitable. I nodded diffidently.

Lemmy firmly grasped my hand, and escorted me to the en suite bathroom. The insignificant journey spanned a gruelling amount of time: our cautious pace coupled with my relentless dizzy spells, attacking from the shadows, complicated an otherwise simple jaunt.

Upon arrival, Lemmy grabbed the handle, turning it in one abrupt motion. "Okay, Iggy," he muttered, focusing his gaze on me. "If you require further aid, just yell. Or come and get me." I appreciated Lemmy's desires to mitigate my struggle, but embarrassment overshadowed the appreciation. He seemingly abstained from commenting on the excessive warmth flooding my face, or failed to detect the redness. Former or latter, I was grateful, and nodded to him before entering the bathroom.

The door cracked upon closing, signifying privacy. I leaned against the polished wood, sedately sighing; allowing my body to relax. I relished the complete tranquillity, disrupted only by the numbing clock hanging within my chambers. I collected my balance, and dubiously approached the mirror; cautious not to overjudge the slippery tile flooring.

Placing both hands symmetrically either side of the sink, I stared into the reflective glass above, scrutinising my accusing gaze; waiting for changes to be revealed. I generally seemed cadaverous, having been drained of vitality within the night. My prodigious spectacles were slightly askew, my green stalk of hair, matted and messy; my eyes were strained red, with stress induced bags hanging below.

"Could be worse," I mumbled.

I continued searching the mirror for its sinister secrets, but abandoned my quest after an eternity, as the answers I attempted to seek remained undisclosed. Knowledge was costly.

I hesitantly withdrew my gaze, paranoid that exposure was nigh. Turning my back, I massaged my head, and removed my glasses. I repeated the process of oscillation on my eyes, attempting to awaken fully. I had ascended from my restless sleep exhausted, which aided in the destruction of my composure. Massaging my eyes proved addictive, and I was forced by physical irritation to cease. Decidedly prepared for the incoming cleanse, I removed my shell, shuffling in the general direction of the shower.

My momentum defeated me, and I doubled over. Throwing my hands out and cringing saved me, as I connected with the wall. It absorbed my momentum, and gripping it stopped me slipping entirely. I groaned, allowing my mind to reconfigure. Retaining my balance was a mission, but I utilized the wall as a bolster, and reached for the nub protruding from the tiles.

The freezing alloy sent a soothing shudder down my spine, reminding me of my turbulent temperature. I twisted my wrist in an attempt of turning it, expecting the intrinsic reaction – under general circumstances, the shower would perform its daily routine. But, to my dismay, it refused to cooperate. It appeared that my physical aptitude had been decimated. My hands were frail, causing abnormal resistance from the turning mechanism. I psyched up, and retried forcing the nub. But overexertion caused lights to flashbang behind my eyes; my head was split asunder by blinding agony.

I endured the pain, narrowing my eyes and fighting to remain upright. Originally, remaining still sufficed, but the affliction progressed. I found myself trying to grip the slick tiles, to no avail. Deciding upon an easier form of reliance, I blindly reached up, and located the rusty rail. Remaining cautious, I grabbed it without relying too heavily on it: its weight parameters seemed precarious, at best.

My balance wavered for some time; I inhaled calming breaths, waiting out the nausea. As my head glued itself back together, the room emulated it, shifting into one physical form.

Cursing at the embarrassment of the situation, I crawled for my glasses. Once located, I fixed them back to my face, causing the lack of clarity to dissolve. I wondered if Lemmy would mind me appearing naked afore him, and arrived at the conclusion he would not, considering my weakened state. After additional energy was expended getting up, I gradually opened the door, poking my head out for surveillance.

Lemmy was staring at the ceiling, reclining atop my bed; humming an unfamiliar melody.

He apparently detected the muffled click of the door, as he lifted his head. "Everything all right?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. I explained the situation with a wry expression.

"Oh... Well, no problem, Iggy. I'll help you," Lemmy chirped, hopping off the bed. He passed me nonchalantly, continuing his humming, and turned the shower on; deftly dodging the initial spurts. "Here you are, enjoy!" He smiled upon passing again; waving a hand as though he had performed a task as casual as opening my window.

"T-thanks a lot..." I mumbled, refusing to withdraw my gaze from the ground.

After closing the door behind me, I repeated the initial process with renewed resolve. Some time elapsed, but significantly less than my previous attempt, before I was finally prepared to enter the welcoming water.

The blistering needles were deployed into my skin, tasked with injecting their warmth into my bloodstream. I leaned back, facing the deluge; allowing its heat to massage my enervated muscles. The grime covering my body melted away, which surprisingly increased my happiness.

Once satisfied, I lowered myself to the ground, as I often did when showering and required to contemplate things I failed to understand. I compressed the visuals within my vision, attempting to surmise the reasoning behind it all. But it seemed equally nonsensical upon further inspection.

I wracked my brain for explanations: had I descended into insanity? Was it simply a demented dream? It shared attributes with reality – was it a revelation? What would have ultimately transpired, had Lemmy failed to discover me? Questions whisked erratically in my head, merging into a blob of uncertainty; uncertainty made my anxiety levels peak.

"It was only a dream." Speaking the words aloud failed to deter my disbelief. I expected an answer, but it remained fleeting within the periphery of my mind's eye. I decided that relying on simplistic postulations would increase my confusion, so capitulated to the unknown.

I clambered to my feet, intent on vacating the warmth. Fresh waves of nausea consequently rolled over me, threatening to overpower my equilibrium. Gritting my teeth, I delicately pressed my hands and forehead adjacent to the wall; allowing its low temperature to soothe me.

An age of suffering passed before my mind realigned. I opened my eyes, before gingerly trailing for the drying rack. I clutched the material, relishing its texture. My hands had regained a portion of their former strength, so drying myself was less of an inhibition.

I opened the door, discovering Lemmy in a similar position to his previous one. He was humming a new melody – one I recognised. It was one of his favourites he had hummed since our infancy. For reasons he refused to divulge, Bowser scalded him for humming it on several occasions; warning him of the repercussions, should he refrain from conforming to his will. But Lemmy, being headstrong, prioritised humming it nonetheless, sometimes in spite of the authoritarian King. I smiled, filled with sudden nostalgia.

Lemmy raised himself, looking up at me. He smiled at my expression.

"It's gloomy. Let's lighten it a bit," I mused, wandering to the curtains and drawing them back.

"No problem," Lemmy replied. "Opening the curtains occurred to me, but I was too relaxed." He narrowed his eyes, squinting as the glare lunged for his eyes.

"You certainly looked it," I said, grinning. I paused momentarily, staring thoughtfully out into the breathtaking dawn. "...I tend to feel horrifically insecure in darkness."

"I'm aware. It was a recurring problem when we were young," Lemmy remarked; "was that what the dream was about...?"

His expression was sympathetic, and as our eyes momentarily locked I averted mine. "Yes. And no," I replied hesitantly, attempting to allocate words to my transient thoughts. "It was... complicated." A grimace settled into my features – just thinking about it was a mental burden.

I flumped down beside Lemmy, and descended into the darkest depths of the vision. My awakening within an unknown setting, its lack of matter, yet incredible beauty provided by the lights. I told him of my instant acknowledgement of potential threats, and the ominous Koopa. I eventually explained the dream's progressions, its similarities to actuality, the baffling time distribution making it appear to be lasting hours, and ultimately, my near-death simulation.

Lemmy sat silently throughout the account, his expression, unreadable. He simply stared distractedly at the sheets, attempting to process it all, just as I had failed to. After I finished relaying the full extent of the story, he remained in this frozen state for a moment. When he lifted his gaze, our eyes connected and I could detect the renewed flux of sympathy within him.

"That sounds horrifying..." Our hands entwined, and he smiled sadly. "I hope you're feeling all right now."

"I've come to terms with and accepted it," I lied, averting my eyes. My indisposition to revealing my weakness was severe. Lemmy frowned.

"Iggy... Your expression is far more revealing than your words. You've mulled this while showering, I assume? More than you're willing to admit." Tripping Lemmy's detection wires proved too easy in my case; I was transparent under his scrutiny. "What's ailing you to this degree? If you are so averse, do not answer. But I can't offer mitigation without context," he continued.

I sighed, inhaling deep breaths. As I opened my mouth, the words spilled out unhindered.

"Lemmy... The laughter filling the void was my own, as though my subconsciousness was relishing its victory over my active mind. I feel it was indicative of something sinister. Like my mind is slowly becoming unhinged, and it's attempting to spike my awareness of its instability through visions." The words shocked me, as they disagreed with my previous vacillation. I was unsure of Lemmy's expectations, but referring to his expression confirmed they had differed from my outburst.

Lemmy seemed reticent as he pondered my theory. Agitation niggled inside, and I shifted uncomfortably. Awaiting his response was arduous, as I required instantaneous disbelief. I needed him to rebut me, for the longer I continued to believe my suppositions, the more terrifying and plausible they became.

I released my withheld breath as he answered: "Oh, Iggy. I think you're reading too deeply into this. Your theory is justified, when supported by stress. But it was a nightmare: they tend to deviate from natural occurrences; they summon the deepest depths of your fears, and harness them. Manifestations of terror - that's all." His tone was filled with caution. Momentary stillness suspended the flow of time around us as I stared at him, searching for the slightest signs of doubt. He held my gaze, but his appearance struck me: he looked almost pained.

My longing for rebuttal extended further. "But... its correlation to reality was astounding," I retorted. "My dreams are usually vague; hazy. My thought process was complex, and I could pinpoint certainties with precision. Usually that's impossible." My voice raised in pitch and velocity. "The agony travelled with the ferocity of ten thousand knives through every nerve. The screams, they were perfectly audible; you could be making them right now, and the difference would be minuscule!" I paused, cringing at my hysteria.

"Deep breaths, Iggy. It's all right," Lemmy replied soothingly. I did as instructed, laying my head down adjacent to him. "Let me reiterate – your theories are derived of critical stress levels. Your paranoia has escalated exponentially, and understandably so," he continued.

"I'm not denying my panic is causing undesirable effects. But I've never been less certain of my wellbeing. Usually when my security is challenged by sudden afflictions; when they're revealed in a manner so formidable, they're caused by something." I focused my attention on Lemmy, noting his pained aspects once more. "Are you all right?"

"Me? Yes, I'm fine," he replied, his expression reverting to an unreadable one. "Look, Iggy, I understand your concern. But you mentioned it yourself: it's objective. We can't regulate your dreams until the source is nullified."

"You would appear to have an inclination of the source," I mumbled.

He looked away, grimacing at the floor. "...Maybe. I'm somewhat certain. But I don't want to call anything out right now. You're wound up enough without me furthering your stress."

"...Yeah, I daresay that's a correct assumption," I replied, giving in and forcing a smile.

Lemmy massaged my head, causing a relaxing shudder to vibrate throughout my body.

"Remember, Iggy: I'll provide all the support I can." He grinned, and as our eyes met his intensity increased. "And rest assured, if I can confirm my suspicions, locating the extrenuous source of your nightmare – I will attempt with vigorous wrath to suppress it." A genuine grin appeared in my features. I was grateful, having Lemmy to soothe my anxiety. I raised myself into a sitting position, pulling him into an affectionate embrace.

"I can always count on you, Lemmy."


	3. Panic

Subsequent days followed, and my life declined to its usual pace. I experienced a distinct lack in attacks, encouraging Lemmy's optimism – he suggested my experience reflected a horrific nightmare, doomed to never resurface. His mitigation provided room for complacency, but anxiety still tortured me. Shaking the foreboding premonition of horror trapping me was difficult. For Lemmy's sake, I retained my misgivings, refusing to divulge them; for he appeared preoccupied of late. He emanated an aura of agitation – his expression of discomfort rarely revealed itself, but it seemed he, too, believed catastrophe was on its way.

Despite my reservations, I continued with daily mundanities, feigning normality. Meals acted as grounding, considering they produced structure. Served in the daunting granite hall acting as our dining area, succulent foods were granted, prepared using only organic ingredients by enslaved staff. Meals were prepared with fear rather than love, but tasted tremendous, nonetheless. After all, Bowser's insatiable appetite required quelling; their welfare depended on it.

Lemmy and I explored a substantial amount of rooms within the castle's vast depths, but we refrained from venturing near the kitchens. Having shown limited interest in foods, we avoided the slavery infested staff haunts. The inhabitants were grumpy, intimidating, and generally wished to be left to their work. Bowser's looming threat caused dwindling enjoyment; Lemmy's charming demeanour failed to affect their consistently cantankerous temperament, and his ability to defrost ice itself with his grin was peerless.

The staff represented the hatred I felt for Bowser's reign. His tyranny affected general moods within the castle, making it intolerable – inhibition restricted individual thought process. The staff were of a hivemind, all prepared to serve their greedy King, and his spoiled children. Misconceptions generalising us, the Koopalings, as pampered brats shrouded the consensus, derived of Bowser's favourites' deplorable tendencies.

Should Roy, for example, discover inadequacies, reports to Bowser would occur. That, or the staff would discover the delights of his wrath, themselves. Roy's placidity was crucial for me in particular, and I tended to provide him a wide berth when passing. His laughter would resound, followed by his usual scathing comment, "_You're pathetic_." But I continued, as it safeguarded me from physical violence.

Lemmy acted as further safeguarding – Roy refrained from attacking me under the scrutiny of others; especially Lemmy. Should Roy's virulence be witnessed, Lemmy's irritable retorts would ward him.

"_I severely suggest you withhold your abhorrent behaviour, lest you get hurt._"

"_I ain't scared of you, pipsqueak._"

"_You've never pushed me to violence, Roy. Maybe it's time you learned fear._"

Lemmy's words often perturbed the behemoth, as they were filled with confidence. Roy terrified most.

I felt secure with Lemmy, aware of his intervention in circumstances involving Roy's brutality; even at the sacrifice of his safety. But alone, my vulnerability increased tenfold, and I would do anything to avoid incurring his wrath.

Roy flaunted his exceptional magnitude, reminding me of my limitations daily. Despite my gangling height, he belittled me to the point of diminution. He utilised me as a personal anger vent, physically assaulting me on a regular basis. He was perpetually infuriated by concealed dispositions, and I received the consequent wrath.

Before adolescence, I was boisterous and headstrong, which augmented substantially with Lemmy accompanying me. We each developed vigorous senses of justice, standing against the world like obstinate rocks against the ferocious tide.

But even the sturdiest of rocks erode with time.

Upon reaching my teens, Roy had literally beaten any form of opposition I could summon out of me. Infuriated, Lemmy continuously implored I approach Ludwig for assistance. But, truthfully, I felt pitiful enough; the prospect of requiring succorance for liberation of Roy repulsed me. Avoiding and outlasting him remained the indefinite options.

Wendy's shrill tones, ravenous craving for attention, and general animosity enforced vicious opinions from staff, and encouraged maximum aversion. It was in my personal interests to circumvent her splitting screams at all costs.

"I want it, I want it, I want it!"

This was a phrase within Wendy's limited vocabulary that she learned to exploit from infancy, and it often resounded within her vicinity. Her desires were instantly fulfilled to mollify her, much to her apparent enjoyment.

Bowser was self-deemed too perpetually busy with laborious tasks to allocate notice to his solitary daughter; therefore, Kamek was encumbered with the responsibility of meeting her near unattainable standards.

Wendy's needs were materialistic and shallow. Being a princess of the Royal Koopa Family created the impression in her that every frivolous object was hers to inherit; upon retrieving items she considered commodities, designed to impress her simplistic mind, she would descend into the murky depths of her cave for a couple of blissful hours.

It was gratifying to witness Larry's exploits to inflict her flawless life with degradation. He often replaced items she owned with particularly nasty substitutes, or merely altered their location. Then, harnessing his silver-tongue, walked lengthy circles around her as she barked inarticulate accusations.

Morton's gluttonous penchant narrowed the locations he could be found. His regular haunt was the exclusive location Lemmy and I avoided: the kitchens. Morton's gluttony mimicked Bowser's; his remaining functions were fairly limited. If not discovered seeking, or devouring, food, he would be boring all accompanying him with inconsequential drivel. Sleeping also appealed to him, making it rare to catch sight of him outside of meals.

Conversing with Morton Koopa, generally, was no simple task. If you decided to instigate this hazardous errand, it involved ceaseless conversations - exhausting the unfortunate souls' listening to the point of madness - until you sourced the eventual desire to establish awareness in him that you needed to vacate the premises, post-haste. Morton was dense; reaching the point of anger was perverse, as he would assuredly be unaware of his offence. So I eluded him as well.

Between Roy; Wendy, and Morton, an inordinate accumulation of exasperation infected the opinions of those in servitude to Bowser. The remainder of us were discarded into the circulation. Unwitnessed by the vast majority, were the traits that distinguished us.

My interests in Larry were substantial; I desired to delve into his undisclosed mind. The antics involving Wendy were merely scratching the surface of Larry Koopa. But he was bashful, despite his extroverted mannerisms. Generally he preferred solitude, and encouraging a conversation spanning further than pleasantries proved a hefty challenge.

All Koopalings avoided Ludwig; accommodating the rule we created: "Unless Ludwig seeks a conversation with you, do not attempt seeking one with him."

Rules were created as parameters; boundaries to be upheld. But desperate situations required firm command, and Ludwig's authoritative nature provided superlative solidity.

Ludwig matched Larry, preferring solitude. But held different reasoning as to why. Years before, he was sociable; perhaps even friendly, but Bowser's transgression regarding Bowser Junior's lineage leading to the youngest's future coronation shattered the once joyous Prince. For Ludwig deemed it his own destiny to govern Dark Land, determined to oust our father's belligerence, and restore lost regional relations.

Now, grumpy and unapproachable, the eldest sealed himself inside any room harbouring a piano, spending hours immersing himself; perfecting technical masterpieces. Disturbing him was ill-advised, for if anyone inadvertently interrupted the musician, they would come to appreciate the extent of his indignation.

Circumstances involving severe distress ensured the return of our caring brother. Ludwig's previous personality was buried deep within his loathing, but when required to appear, sympathy was difficult to suppress.

The eldest had taken responsibility in securing the stability of our family, as Bowser failed to deliver. If a problem sparked a flame with the potential to swell into an inferno, he would abandon his resentment for long enough to extinguish it.

Lemmy remained the sole sibling whom I could divulge personal information to. My best friend; the only individual I relished passing the time with inside the corrupted stronghold we called home.

To endure the passing days in Dark Land required heavy procrastination. The available activities, discounting individual productivity, were nonexistent. Lemmy and I often observed the soldiers' training regime from windows.

Many Koopas stood in Uniform formation, preparing mentally for the irreversible doom awaiting them – dying to the hands, or rather feet, of Mario; perishing needlessly for a cause lacking any sanity.

Perhaps it amused Mario to refrain from landing the killing blow on Bowser. He spared the King, relishing the frequent challenge he issued; spicing up a plumber's otherwise mundane life. Lemmy once stated his belief in Mario allowing Bowser his capture of Princess Peach, intent on seeking sport in slaughtering Koopas during his exploits to rescue her. Mario, factoring every feasible possibility, could be perceived as abhorrent a tyrant as Bowser.

I crumbled to the ground, exhausted. The entirety of the struggle was riddled with disparity regarding leverage. I was unprepared and unequipped to engage Mario. A Koopa progeny, forced to fight his father's battles; my experience paled when compared with Mario's.

There he stood, menacingly scrutinising me. His arms elevated in a victorious pose; an expression of triumph plastered to his unprepossessing face.

"_There's another of you brats down_," he jeered, smiling.

I glared up at him, tired of his iniquitous arrogance. "_Kudos, red plumber. You have bested another _child," I retorted, spitting on the adjacent space he inhabited. I cringed as agony enveloped me, derived of this undemanding action. His countenance faltered as irritation invaded.

"_Watch your mouth. You're in no position to taunt _me_, Iggy Koopa_." A malicious grin played at his lips. "_Now, the question remains – shall I kill you_?" My eyes widened momentarily. "What do you think, young Koopa?"

"_Do you really require my input?_" I snapped. "_It's not as though my opinion counts. It never has_." Something broke in Mario's features. His expression changed, the original cold detachment melting. It was replaced with... sympathy? No corroboration was provided for my unvoiced inquiry, as he disappeared within a second.

I survived a clash with Mario. But the reasoning for my salvation was difficult to determine. Had Mario, the fabled, narcissistic brigand experienced remorse; sympathy? Or did the alluring attraction derived of potentially defeating me once more dissuade him?

At the time I assumed my expedient thinking saved me; I placed my belief in the former. But as the years passed, and Mario continued massacring Koopas for reprehensible retribution, my opinion was weighed favourably towards the latter.

Soldiers were seldom discovered performing a scheduled training regiment of late. Bowser often deployed troops into uncharted territory, tasking them with odd jobs seemingly serving no purpose. Perhaps it was a poor attempt at displaying his dominance; suggesting he had offensive tactics at his disposal. But Lemmy and I knew better.

Considering the distinct lack in soldiers, we chose instead to wander the castle, searching for interesting objects available for tinkering.

We had located a particularly spacious room, hidden from the masses. The decor was sparse, allowing Lemmy to perform his acrobatics unimpeded; I could observe his proficient entertainment for hours. Occasionally he attempted to involve me, and we balanced atop the ball together, but my balance was limited, leading to me falling.

Traversing the wastes outwith the castle was tempting in theory. But Dark Land was so named for specific reasons. A desolate expanse of lava, embellished by molten rock, and the occasional meteor. It was little to behold; not to mention hazardous. So we remained indoors.

My body convulsed as I awakened, gasping for breath. My eyes darted around, observing the blackness serving as my bedroom. The sheets were strewn across my cluttered floor, suggesting I abandoned them. Replacing them was a sheet of burning perspiration.

My body continued convulsing erratically; the mental affliction crippling me was a repetition of the previous attack. As the physical manifestation of distress invaded, I was forced into the foetal position to prevent retching.

My nightmarish fantasy had re-emerged from the depths.

Its potency had increased; its realistic aspects, augmented, and the agony doubled. My awareness of the dangers awaiting me failed to govern the undeniable outcome. The re-enactment remained the same – I was pulled by a masterful puppeteer to my doom.

The clarity had substantially sharpened, making it difficult to distinguish from reality. My horrific laughter periodically echoed like a demonic siren throughout. The darkness was predominant, engulfing vast expanses of ethereal land. The lights originally illuminating the skies were absent; swallowed by obsidian blobs.

In the climactic scene, the manifestations plaguing me tore at my being. Solidified presences wrapped around me, restricting my breathing. And as the bastion consumed me, terrified screams penetrated my mind, waking me up.

I willed myself to adjust my crooked posture, sitting up, as my head's lacking elevation irritated me. My breathing was ragged and shallow, emulating the previous circumstances. The difference being the sweltering heatwave ravaging me.

I attempted to stabilise my breathing, but to no avail. My rasps subsisted, and within minutes my breathing was relatively unsustainable. I anticipated the possibility of me falling unconscious, back into my hellish nightmare, if unable to allow flowing oxygen into my lungs.

I stood up, struggling to retain control as my mind attempted to inundate me with terror. But the speed I ascended breached my acceptable parameters. Blood rushed to my head, threatening to topple me; I swore, swaying on the spot.

Displaying maximal volition, I feigned ignorance of the nausea attacking me; attempting to retain some semblance of control. Stumbling towards the translucent glaze opposite my bed, I practically ripped the curtains from their holder, and started fumbling with the bolt acting as the ultimate obstacle blocking me from my reprieve. Overwhelming dismay crippled me – the bolt remained unaffected by my efforts, unyielding as the shower had been.

"Are you kidding me?" I groaned. "Why didn't I open you before I went to sleep...?" My voice petered out. It was hoarse, and attempting to articulate sent spiralling waves of scorching flames down my throat. Rampant coughs spewed out of my gaping maw as the flames ripped their way out of me.

As the inferno completed its dispersal, I leaned against the chilled glass, deeming it a suitable replacement for nighttime air. But the effects were temporary: my increased body heat rapidly heated the window to unbearable extremes.

Seeking a more permanent solution, I removed my weighted head from the scorching glass, stumbling backwards. I turned with considerable difficulty, and staggered towards my door.

The knickknacks littering the floor provided unnecessary difficulty on the way; I tripped over several items, including my shell.

After spending an extended moment cursing the untidiness infecting my room, I arrived beside the door. Panic was winning the confrontation within; every ounce of my expendable tenacity was focused on not collapsing. The temperature was exponentially climbing, and my ability to breathe was suffering. My eyes were drooping; the room was spinning. Escaping was my only option.

My altered perception instigated the conjuration of multiple handles, protruding from my revolving door. Terrified of my sanity's imminent destruction, I viciously grabbed one, and attempted turning it. I cried out, closing my eyes in frustration: my hands were clammy; consequently, the handle refused to yield.

Having spent time fumbling in the unsettling darkness acted as a saving grace, ensuring my eyes' cooperation. Their adjustment to the surroundings proved invaluable as I scanned around me, locating a discarded, crumpled towel mere feet away. I vocalised an amused apology to my room for having berated it previously – its expedient impurity served as a beneficial boon in the long run.

I hunched over, intent on retrieving the towel. But straightening caused the revolving to double in pace.

Lying in a dazed heap on the floor, I realised my nausea had temporarily defeated me. I grumbled, placing both hands in symmetry, adjacent to myself. I pushed, managing to get onto my knees. My dizziness was mitigated by stability provided within the position, allowing me to stand.

With startled breaths I grabbed the handle, employing the fleeting remnants of ambition barely fuelling me. Ensuring the towel surrounded my hand, I twisted the knob, and yanked the door; exerting every portion of strength available.

The wooden obstacle propelled ajar with extreme momentum, consequently slamming into my awaiting wall. An explosive crash echoed down the corridor. But I was beyond caring.

I stumbled into the inviting hallway; into the freezing midnight air. Relatively close was an arch-shaped window allowing abundant amounts of delicious air to flow. I greedily swallowed every gulp of oxygen my gaping mouth and lungs could support.

For an endless eternity I lay, sprawled across the granite floor, gasping. The agony; the unbearable agony – extinguished. My mind realigned, and I caught myself laughing; laughing out of pure relief. I pounded the frigid flooring below, releasing tension, and raised my arms; stretching the worries away.

Numbing seconds continued to drift, and unconsciousness began to ensnare me. As my eyes drooped, I flinched with rapid awareness, eyes dilating in horror.

Do not fall asleep!

Precipitating a recurrence of my nightmare terrified me. Its malicious intent had developed; it wished to decimate my vulnerable mind. The effects had already doubled in ferocity. Allowing oblivion to claim me anew may cause inconceivable developments. I shuddered at the prospect, dismissing any notions of sleep. But as panic sabotaged my judgement, Lemmy's words rang out, beautiful and true.

"_If you ever need me, I'm never far away_."

Burning resolve welled inside. I currently required Lemmy's invaluable ability to diminish my fears. Prioritising seeking him out drowned some of my dread as clairvoyance empowered me – Lemmy would shelter me. But despite my willful desires to locate Lemmy, I failed to perceive the difficulty destined to bloom from my veritable indiscretion.

Generally, the distance separating Lemmy's chambers from mine was of little concern. During an average day walking the corridors to greet him was a joyous occasion, as he was awaiting my arrival.

During the darkened hours of night, the castle's hospitable aspects were suppressed by terror. For in blackness, even the most benign objects warp into monstrous enforcers of anxiety. Compounded by my unhinged mentality, I was irrevocably trapped within a constant source of trepidation.

Sprawling shadows and broad, carnivorous corridors created an unpleasant emulation of my deadliest fears. Every ornament seemed capable of establishing an artificial life derived of the dark; capable of consuming me instantaneously. Their voracious shadows observed my precarious shambling, awaiting my failure to continue. Portraits followed my every action, ready to notify their masters, should I capitulate to exhaustion. Open doors revealed the sprawling abyss within; descendants of Hell awaited one incautious movement, prepared to devour me. Were I to fall into the darkest depths, I would undoubtedly be doomed to wander the eternal darkness. No way out.

Not only were the visuals disturbing: the noises, or lack thereof, were eerie. My footsteps magnified in volume, bouncing and rebounding from wall to wall. The trek was too clamorous; bound to attract the attention of those best left unaware.

I expected Roy to materialise momentarily. To hear his horrific tones as they hunted me – inevitably capturing their prey, and delving into my skull; followed by his fist. I could detect the bursting beat of my heavy heart as it hammered against my ribs in a panicked attempt of escaping my chest.

Hysteria burrowed into the depths anew, causing fresh layers of perspiration to encapsulate me. My legs were weak, especially around the knees, and as I continued further into obscurity both mental and physical collapse appeared imminent.

"Come on... I know it's not far now," I moaned.

Lemmy's chambers were within reaching distance, as I had located the corridor they resided in. But separating me from deliverance was something so utterly atrocious my body stiffened until rigid; the surrounding temperature dropped below zero. A hulking figure stood central, adjacent to Lemmy's room.

I gawked forlornly at the ultimate source of terror. Roy. Undoubtedly, he had noticed the commotion; his punishment was nigh. Painful rasps projected from my gaping maw. My emphatic desire to flee was ignored as my legs refused to comply. Roy was facing the opposite wall, giving me an advantageous opportunity to disappear, unnoticed. But only if my legs could reestablish animation.

A painstaking age transpired as I continued fighting my losing battle. But Roy remained thoroughly stagnant. He neglected acknowledgement of me, encouraging risk. Sucking in a sharp breath, I managed to coerce my legs into ignition.

Roy may have been affected by exhaustion; suffering a reduction in his sensory faculties. Perhaps I could furtively sidle into Lemmy's room – my sanctuary. Perhaps I could ambush him, overpowering him until Lemmy noticed. Hopeless scenarios continued to flash in my mind – Roy would detect me; strike me down. Lemmy remained my conclusive defence. He would protect me.

As I closed in, Roy stood his ground. The probability of succession increased, but my awareness of the excessive amounts of strain weighing my body down spiked – the persistent threat of passing out loomed above me.

Closer, no reaction. Closer still, nothing. Our separation ceased to exist, and Lemmy's door was within my grasping radius. Taking a final laborious breath, fighting to remain unexposed, I lunged for Lemmy's door.

My lacking stability damaged my chances, and I misplaced my hand. My resultant momentum coupled with my gangling form overwhelmed me. I toppled, smashing into the sturdy wood, and recoiled backwards, directly into what I assumed to be Roy.

Only, my fears were proved incorrect; it was an object, composed of a rugged texture. I whined as it excoriated my exposed skin. I smacked into the granite flooring, and was robbed of oxygen.

I gasped, trying to restore my breathing, then hesitantly raised my head, intent on viewing my inanimate assailant. My weary gaze was met by the steely, lifeless glare of a statue. My Grandfather.

Muffled movements resounded, signifying Lemmy's arrival. Despite my inconceivable embarrassment derived of the situation surrounding me, his imminent discovery of my deterioration was comforting. The door creaked open, and the gap was adorned by Lemmy's face. His eyes diligently darted around the area; falling upon the statue.

"Why is this-?" He glanced down, instantly locating my slumped silhouette, incapacitated and confined to the floor. "I-Iggy, is that you?" he whispered in alarm, rushing to my side. "What happened? Are you all right!?" He grasped my shoulders, gently shaking them. My responsive whine altered his shocked expression to one of concern.

He elevated my head's position. "Let's get you up. Do you know why this statue is here?" I refrained from responding, too delirious to perform actions. He grimaced, taking my arm and securing it around his neck. With some shifts in momentum, I was raised into a sitting position. "Your back, it's scraped..." he mumbled, staring at the sentinel looming in the shadows.

I whimpered, restricted in capabilities; speech was beyond me. I accepted his added leverage as he aided me in standing. The corridor threatened to flip, swaying precariously. I emulated it, overwhelmed by unsourced propulsion.

Lemmy grappled my arms, preventing me from collapsing. "Steady, now. I've got you. Never mind this statue, I'll move it back in the morning."

He started leading me into his room, increasing my stability with both hands. Upon gaining access I managed to utter two definitive syllables.

"Bathroom."

Lemmy instantly understood, nodding with extreme sovereignty. He rushed me to his en suite, pinpointing a flawless balance between haste and stability; my equilibrium was his top priority. Once inside, he flipped a switch, awakening the artificial light source. The abrupt impact of lights startled me, burning my eyes. I closed them as my torment resurfaced in earnest.

My eyes rolled into the back of my head as my durability reached its breaking point, and my nausea peaked. Lemmy pulled me across the threshold and aided me in kneeling.

"Here's the toilet, Iggy!" he exclaimed, tenderly placing both hands around my head; guiding it to a suitable location.

The subsequent process was painful. Minutes of false security blurred together as I hugged the toilet, savouring its glacial temperature. Lemmy fetched a cloth, dampened it in freezing water, and busied himself cleaning the wound etched into my back. The irritated gash assailed me in protest with every oscillation, causing groans to erupt forth.

"Sorry, Iggy, but it requires tending," Lemmy moaned.

I gritted my teeth, awaiting the torment to reduce in potency. But the sickness was unexpected and punishing. I began retching violently, each and every wave mimicking physical bombardment, and my churned stomach contents were emptied into the awaiting toilet. The experience was comparable to being throttled at the neck, reducing Roy's attempts at physically impairing me to the rank of mediocre.

Lemmy abandoned my cuts, intent on comforting me. He grabbed my hand, squeezing it and delicately massaging my crooked neck.

"It's all right, Iggy. It will be over soon. Just hang tough," he mused.

Hours of horrific affliction were compressed into ten gruelling minutes before my limit was discovered; the gagging ceased. The relief that followed rivalled the rediscovery of oxygen I had made earlier. Existence in its entirety slowed to a blissful standstill.

I toppled backwards to the chilling tile flooring, swallowing the rejuvenating air; contentedly losing cognizance within the hum filling the bathroom. Lemmy obtained a glass of water, and warmed the cloth before wandering over. He gruffly plonked down adjacent to my head, assisting in lifting it onto his lap.

"Here, drink this. It will soothe your throat." He raised the glass to my lips, and I sipped its contents, weaker than a newly born Goomba. Still holding the glass steady, Lemmy washed specific areas of my body, cleansing the excess perspiration I accrued upon my onerous exploit. As I drained the remaining dregs of liquid, he wiped my face with the cooling cloth.

"...All right, Iggy," Lemmy mumbled; "I'll help you stand, and escort you to my bed. It's not far – think we can make it?" I nodded, conforming to his suggestions.

Standing was manageable, but movement appeared challenging. The room tilted, as precedented in my current condition. Lemmy held me fast, guiding me the insignificant distance that seemed to last several lifetimes.

"We're here."

My body connected with material, and I was sprawled across Lemmy's bed. Exhaustion ambushed me with the severity of a tidal wave.

"I got severely concerned for a moment there, Iggy," Lemmy murmured, catching my gaze. I smiled apologetically in response, before staring with desperation at the window. Lemmy followed my gaze, and crossed over to open it.

"Thanks," was all I could manage before darkness breached my defenses; claiming me. And I lost consciousness on Lemmy's bed.


	4. Breaking Point

My eye lids fluttered responsively as iridescent sun rays licked their surface through a small crack in the curtains. I groaned, shuffling out of the way. My head felt as though my brain was aggressively hammering against its prison in a frenzied attempt to escape, mimicking my heart's actions the previous night. It was apparent even my organs found me too much of a burden to bear.

My throat felt completely raw, and as devoid of moisture as a desert. I surveyed my surroundings in a daze, unable to discern whether or not what I experienced in the deranged darkness had been a progression of my dream, or if it truly happened. After all, distinguishing dreams from reality was becoming a pain.

My cognitive response to the situation seemed lacking in fluidity. My mental process was still heavily chained by exhaustion, and my brain weakened by its relentless attempts of desertion. As a result, I was unable to tell exactly where I was.

Unable to summon the desire to move, I ran my eyes across my current lodgings, in search of specific signs that would confirm this was my room. I homed in on a wall near to me on the right, and noticed the surface was bereft of the drawings Lemmy and I spent hours on as children. Assuming the night before was a reality, I was in Lemmy's room.

I tore my gaze from the surrounding space, and closely observed the bed I was currently engulfing. And while it was a relief to have confirmation that my dream hadn't progressed so wildly, I moaned in anguish. Lemmy was curled up beside me, taking up as little space as he could, considering my arms had been sprawled out at odd angles; constraining most of the available space. Tears threatened to invade as I watched his sleeping form. He expelled my agony the night before; helped me so much, and I repaid him by almost forcing him off his own bed.  
"Lemmy... I am _so_ sorry," I whispered. As a result of exercising my vocal chords, the inside of my throat spontaneously combusted. I cringed, holding a hand up to it to try and subdue the sudden inferno.

For some time, I attempted to relinquish myself of the ferocious force rending my throat. But I realised with time that I would require help from a common ally to placate the wrathful storm. I forced myself into a sitting position, and inched towards the edge of the bed. Trying to cause as little turbulence as possible, I pushed down into the mattress, and ascended from my shame using the sequential momentum. Turning around, I examined Lemmy, and sighed in relief upon finding his eyes were still firmly closed. I could at least find some solace in allowing him rest.

Experience had embedded a deterrent message within me. It was perpetually etched into the forefront of my mind, and warned me that moving any quicker than a snail's pace on a morning such as this one would cause repercussions I could not currently handle exposing myself to. With the grace of a starving lioness, I carefully stalked towards the bathroom.

Once inside, I braved the artificial light source above me and sought the sink. Upon discovering the glass Lemmy had aided me in drinking out of the night before abandoned on the floor, I washed it out, and filled it with flowing liquid; grateful that the tap complied enough to turn.

Not wanting to rouse Lemmy, I lowered myself onto the now freezing tile floor: the open window had caused severe shifts in the temperature – from one extreme to the other. The cold snapped at my exposed skin for some time, but it was more playful than threatening. It was certainly less of a burden than extreme heat: my breathing was functioning perfectly. Upon mounting a defensive force in the form of water, and laying siege to the fire in my throat, it was ultimately defeated. The flames died down, and the pain with them. I smiled as the liquid vitalised my previously shrivelled throat.

I gulped down the remainder of the refreshment, and ran my hand across the lower half of my face to clear it of residual drops. I then made a better attempt at straightening my legs, aspiring for my full height. The water thankfully reduced my immense dehydration, resulting in my brain's sudden clarity; it seemed satisfied enough to halt its attempts of mutiny. And although my throat was still irritated due to impressive persistence, my pain parameters were high enough that it didn't bother me much.

Once prepared to evacuate the bathroom, I gingerly sidled into the silent scrutiny of the mirror, assessing the potential damage from the previous night. I was pleased to see my mental state was impacted upon less; my deterioration could be considered significantly less horrific this time around. It also felt reassuring to me that my reflection emitted an aura of trustworthiness. But this was no surprise: the sleep I had fallen into on Lemmy's bed was seamless; nothing could break through.

I gently padded out from the bathroom, hoping I could stealthily slip through the sprawling corridors unnoticed to my room to retrieve my shell. But as my quaking hand reached painstakingly for the handle, and I was about to open the doorway to mental salvation, the sound of rustling sheets made me reluctantly turn. Lemmy was sitting up with his eyes half shut. He turned to look at me, and as our eyes met I faltered.

"Iggy. You're acting as though I should be _mad_," He sighed, smiling at me. I traipsed towards his location, embarrassed and remorseful for having tried to leave. I lowered myself onto the bed's edge, continually averting my gaze. More rustling ensued as he closed the gap between us, and placed a supportive hand on my shoulder. I shuddered as he methodically moved it in a circle. "It's not as if it was your fault," He continued softly, in a warmly invigorating tone; ignoring my obstinate refusal to look at him. I swallowed a large gulp of air, and adjusted my body positioning in order to view him.

My mind was clouded by uncertainty as I tried to determine whether or not it would have been more painful seeing him angry, as seeing him grin at me was enough to induce strangled sobs in my throat, and tears in my eyes. Frustratingly, I was unable to explain the reasoning behind my sudden influx of misery.  
"I'm... so sorry. I- I didn't mean to-" Despite my coherence of mind in the bathroom, the words currently refused to flow. He lifted his hand from my shoulder, and placed a finger to my lips.  
"I understand. You really don't need to apologise, though."

I wiped away my physical weakness and attempted a smile, but my mental weakness was powerful; my expression was justly chastened by self-loathing: smiling was beyond my current comprehension. "Didn't I remind you just the other day about the fact I will always be here for you?" He beamed, and his expression delved into the deepest abyss of my soul. I found myself lost in his smile; lost in his contagion of happiness. Slowly the misery began to evaporate; the suffering began to dissipate. Everything just stopped.

For some time, a serene silence filled the room. I inevitably ensconced myself on Lemmy once more; finding a satisfying amount of relaxation within the tuneless melody of our cohesive breathing. It didn't last: within the silence, a variety of doubts invaded my mind; mimicking their behaviour from the night before. Anxiety inched its way back into my brain and was sent spiralling down my body; causing erratic fluctuations in my body temperature. It was then that I remembered the reasoning for my longing to find Lemmy; the reason why I impetuously braved the dark. I cleared my throat, and as he looked at me curiously, relayed the full night's details from my waking up, to his finding me.

"All right. Let's recap, Iggy. So your dream did indeed resurface?" Time ceased to exist as I delved into the darker depths once more.  
"Yes, in earnest."  
"And when you woke up your room felt like a furnace?"  
"Basically." I crossed my legs, staring up at Lemmy's ceiling.  
"...Right. Then what?"  
"Well, I couldn't manage the window bolt at first. I think I was affected too much by panic; my mind was drowning in it. As a result, I could barely function. Even the door was a struggle to open, because my hands were sweaty. When I finally escaped the small confines of the room, I felt much better. But my reprieve was barely temporary."  
"You mean the lowered temperature wasn't enough?" Lemmy asked, having already begun to come to a decisive conclusion based off my symptoms.  
"Well, yes and no. It _was_ enough. But it wasn't the temperature that was causing me to heat up so violently."  
"You had a panic attack?"  
"Yes, I did. It was a really bad one, too. As bad as that time a couple of yea-" My voice reduced to a ragged breath as the memory hit me. Lemmy lifted his hands up and spoke with extreme velocity.  
"I know what you mean – don't go any further!" He shook his head. "I swear I wanted to brutally murder Roy that day..."

An hour passed by within the space of a solitary minute, as Lemmy calmed me down. When assured my stability was imminent, he continued; "So, you decided you had better come and find me, despite being terrified of the dark?"  
I lowered my gaze; bowing my head before replying.  
"My judgement wasn't exactly on the mark." Lemmy inspected me with a mixture of pity and worry in his features.  
"I know the rest, you needn't tell me. But one thing I still don't understand is why that statue was in the middle of the corridor." My eyes flickered with awareness.  
"Well, actually, that's the main reason I was in such a pathetic state when you found me." I told him of my paralysis in the first instance due to being under the illusion that the statue was Roy; of how this correlated with my previous fears of him finding me.  
"That... makes total sense," He replied. "That's why I heard my door being hammered on. You were knocking to get in, I assume?"  
"Not quite..." I turned my head in the opposite direction, embarrassed by my reprehensible miscalculation. "I actually made a hopeless dive for the door, adamant I could seek sanctuary within. But I messed it up, and ended up smacking into it instead. The recoil caused me to fall back; that's why I was on the floor."

Lemmy's hand came to rest gently on my cheek. "I'm glad I spotted you, at least. And I'm sorry you had such a terrible night. How _is_ your back?" I raised myself into a sitting position to allow him to observe it.  
"You tell me," I replied.  
"Well. It looks fine," He mused, examining every inch. "Does this hurt?" I winced as his hand came into contact with the damaged skin.  
"Not really, it's just a bit of an irritation. The skin is tender."  
"You'll be fine by tomorrow, then."

Our discussion involving the night before continued as I described the intricate details, listing the remainder of my fears and how they impacted upon my mental state. We touched upon the potential reasons for the statue's unexplained movement, but couldn't come to much of a decisive reason for its inexplicable placement.  
"I guess someone may have just moved it there for some reason. I don't want to ask around, as it might draw unnecessary attention to what went on last night," I sighed.  
"That's fine. I don't think it matters. Anyway, I have a suggestion." I locked eyes with him, and he smiled. "Maybe... Maybe it would be best if you stay here with me during the night. Then you won't have to deal with what happened last night ever again. I'll be here to help at any time." His smile widened and I involuntarily grinned. I attempted to retain control of my features as a sudden burst of excitement overwhelmed my senses.  
"Yeah. You're definitely right about that." I struggled to keep my voice steady as the ecstasy fought for attention.  
"You okay?" Lemmy asked, still grinning.  
"Just fine." I was trying desperately not to erupt into joyous laughter at this point. "I just... I've wanted you to say that for a long time."  
"What, invite you to stay here?" I nodded. "Why didn't _you_ just ask me? I would have said yes!" He began giggling, observing my failure at keeping my emotions in check.  
"I was crippled by insecurity!" I replied, still struggling to retain any form of composure. "Okay! I'm all right." I inhaled a calming breath, "Yes, I will stay with you!" He squawked as my arms surrounded him. "But on one condition: if you awake to me taking up the entirety of the bed, you have to prevent me from doing it."  
"Deal." His muffled voice rose from my chest.

"I hope no one actually requires this statue to be here," I mumbled, standing adjacent to my Grandfather's accusing glare.  
"Oh, yeah. It's part of Bowser's new master plan based on how to ultimately defeat Mario," Lemmy replied. I laughed through gritted teeth as we delivered the dense statue back to its rightful place.  
"Well, the statue would probably do a better job fighting Mario," I exclaimed through gasps for air.

Our laughter ricocheted from wall to wall as we zealously traversed the labyrinth of corridors, trying to out speed one another. I quickly pulled ahead, and heard Lemmy shouting my name.  
"You win! I can't possibly keep pace with those lanky legs of yours!" He huffed, closing the newly created gap between us. "Should've brought my ball."  
"Well, then. How about..." I picked him up, and placed him on my shoulders. "This?"  
"Fine. But you had better get us there fast! We have an appointment of the highest importance – food!" I nodded and took off for a second time.

With the recent proposal received from Lemmy dominating every other doubt in my mind, my happiness had plateaued. But my endeavours in obscurity were not unnoticed. And as I chose a space at the table for breakfast, a harsh realisation dawned upon me: my joy had been premature; my pleasure was about to be destructively extirpated by a force of higher intensity than gravity.

"What were you up to last night?" The hoarse, masculine voice was unmistakable. My heart rate instantaneously doubled in tempo as I cringed in fear.  
"I... I can't say I know what you mean, Roy..." I replied, fixing my gaze solely on my plate. My knuckles were whitening due to the pressure I was exerting, gripping my knife and fork as though they were the only things tying me to reality; my final life line. My whole body was rigid with petrification.  
"I've asked around about the noises and every one I asked claims they have no idea, so either they're lying, it was him over there," He thrust a finger in Lemmy's direction with such ferocity I flinched; "Or, it was you. I'll ask again – what were you up to?" He lowered his position; he was now inches from my face.

While partially assured of my immediate physical well-being, my mind was darting through every potential hazard. Roy's awareness of my precarious struggle in the darkness served as fuel for his wrath; it was inevitable at this point. But if I was to run, everyone would know of my undisclosed cowardice. Lemmy was currently in the process of acquiring a large supply of toast in my stead. I was alone; I was helpless; there was no conceivable escape route.

"I woke up feeling slightly sick, so I left my room for some air. That's all," I mumbled. I had failed to ensure my voice's solidity, and it had cracked in the process. Roy smirked at me, relishing my apparent terror. What I had explained to him was moderately true; daring to recall the entirety of the events would surely increase Roy's contemptuous view of me.  
"As much as I wish I could believe you, dear brother, I don't. It would be in your best interests to 'fess up. 'Cause if you don't, there'll be trou-"  
"Roy."

My panic dispelled, mitigated by mild repose; my safeguard was fast approaching with a plate of toast. Lemmy placed the food down, glaring dangerously in Roy's direction as he did so.  
"What is it, have you got something to say? Go ahead. I'm listening." Roy rounded on Lemmy, leering at him derisively through his sunglasses. Lemmy raised his eyebrows.  
"Need I remind you of the conversation we had a few days ago, Roy?" All of my attention was diverted from the surrounding areas to the current conversation. "My input may currently be limited. But if I was to inform, say, Ludwig;_he_ may have an awful lot more to scrutinise on the matter," He continued coolly.

Roy doubled back, as though Lemmy had delivered a debilitating blow to his face. Despite the fact Roy often attacked me in secluded quarters, if Ludwig were to find out about his frequent atrocities, his retribution would be excruciating.  
"Is that fear I detect on your face, Roy?" Lemmy taunted, revelling in his victory, which vicariously encouraged me.  
"You win, for now. I'll bow out, but don't dare to think this is over." My head teetered back and forth as his ultimatum continued to circle it, ensnaring my prior feelings of security.

"Iggy? He's gone now." Unmitigated incapacity bound me as an unknown hand came into contact with my shoulder. I hesitantly raised my head, seeking its source. Lemmy was staring back at me, looking remorseful. "I'm sorry if I made things worse." I shook my head.  
"No, no. You rescued me from him," I replied distractedly, Roy's threat still echoing around my ears.  
"You really don't have to worry about him, Iggy. He won't touch you if I'm around; he wouldn't dare," Lemmy added reassuringly. His attempts of curing my apprehension consoled me to some extent. But my appetite had ultimately deserted me, and I no longer desired a single bite. I allowed Lemmy to finish the totality of the toast.

As we each stood up to leave, nausea resurfaced, causing my balance to waver. Before my awareness of the situation was adequate enough, the distance between the table surface and myself began reducing rapidly. Unable to halt my increasing velocity, I narrowed my eyes, waiting for the impact. But it never came.  
"I've got you, Iggy." Lemmy was positioned on top of the bench, both hands placed on my chest. "Do you need to sit down?"  
"N-no..."  
"All right. You're heavy, though, so could you-?"  
"Oh, yeah. S-sorry."

With Lemmy's assistance, I gathered enough equilibrium to stand up; he acted as a bolster as I regained my self-respect. I scanned the area, and caught several interested glances from my siblings.  
"They saw..." I moaned.  
"Don't worry about it, Iggy. I'm sure they're all concerned more than anything," Lemmy whispered reassuringly. The siblings inspecting me averted their gaze upon meeting mine, bar one. Larry continued to observe me sympathetically.

I altered my expression to one of reassurance. He answered by raising his arm, waving in acknowledgement. Perhaps my distrust of my siblings was unjustified. It was that moment Larry performed something completely out with his character; he abandoned his spot, and made his way towards Lemmy and me.

"Are you all right, Iggy?" He asked, upon arriving within earshot, sympathy lingering in his expression. "That was a bad run in. Don't let him get to you, okay?" I blinked, staring at Larry with my mouth agape. This was unprecedented behaviour from the youngest of the Koopalings. Lemmy seemed equally stupefied.  
"Y-yes, I'm good!" I exclaimed, finally having located the source of my voice. "Only... a little bit dazed."  
"And your back? I noticed it as I came in. Looks sore, will it be fine?"  
"Yeah. Just... slipped outside, yesterday. It will be okay," I stated, smiling at him.  
"All right, then. Well, have a good day. I'm going to finish my breakfast. Hi and bye, Lemmy!" Lemmy waved responsively as Larry wandered back towards his food.

Within a minute Lemmy had successfully aided me in vacating the dining hall, standing fast at the points in which I held onto him for apposite leverage. The rest of the day was standard, on the whole. Lemmy and I subsequently retired to our sequestered room, after having retrieved Lemmy's ball. I found myself trapped inside an impenetrable bubble of perturbation; while I usually ended up enthralled in Lemmy's acrobatic antics, today my mind was elsewhere. Lemmy often cast worried glances in my direction, stopping his performances and observing me for degradation in my mood.

The final meal of the day was torturous. Lemmy attempted to distract me from my situational dread by constantly conversing with me. And while I deemed his sentiment evocative, it was relatively ineffective. I could feel them: Roy's eyes – burrowing into the depths of my skin. He rarely averted his derisive gaze from our end of the table. Even under strict constraint, he continued to mentally harass me. Tears began pooling as my mind caved; this was more than I could manage.

Despite my misery, I became conscious of Lemmy's sudden absence. I turned, and he was forcibly beckoning in the direction of the door. He looked indignant enough to galvanize me into moving. He positioned me outside of the hall, demanding I stay there.

"I will be back in a moment." I knew not to argue.

I stared at him expectantly as he emerged from the hall once more. He smiled, indicating I should accompany him.  
"I'm not sure if that helped. Nothing I say has much of an everlasting effect on Roy," He confessed with a frown. "But I certainly gave him a shock." Hearing this was enough to lighten my sullen mood.

Once concealed within one of the few remaining places I felt secure, I collapsed onto Lemmy's bed, relishing its comfort. Lemmy followed suite; adjusting his position in order to face me.  
"Iggy... I'm well aware of your reservations regarding Roy's impropriety; I'm well aware you wish for Ludwig to remain ignorant. But if the current situation escalates even further, I will be forced to disregard your suggestions. You are my best friend; I will not allow you to suffer to this degree." I opened my mouth for argument's sake, but closed it solemnly. I was more than aware Lemmy's words rang with severe sincerity; this could not go on. Panic was consuming my general perspective; impinging upon my daily life. It harshly affected me, but Lemmy suffered, too. The latter was beyond my tolerance.

"I know you're vicariously afflicted by all of this," I mumbled. He attempted a smile, his face riddled with dejection. I pulled him close, allowing him to hide his sorrow. "It's not a crime to be upset."  
"I-I know... But I hide it for your sake."  
"You won't have to if we... if we tell Ludwig."

The remainder of my night was spent with Lemmy nestled in my arms; we found refuge within our amity. Secluded within our sanctuary; the capacity of my world was reduced to the two of us. Nothing else mattered; nothing else existed. Lemmy was my top priority – if he was distressed by my burdens, it was my responsibility to eradicate them. And as Lemmy lifted his head to smile at me, his hidden grief still fairly apparent, my resolve burned with an intensity I had long forgotten about.


	5. Small Mercies

My feral screeches resounded throughout the inhospitable expanse. Patches of dilating darkness were already proliferating; swallowing my sanity. Visibility was proportionately halved by an impenetrable black shroud. My dream was within its final stages – the culmination of its terror.

A severe wave of foreboding inundated my senses as horror personified approached out of the dark. A figure of a different quality of darkness. The mere sight was enough to shatter my mind: a psychotic grin disfigured its hollow face. Upon its arrival, it turned, beginning to traverse the wastes. Knowing my defiance would simply encourage its amusement, I conformed to its directive, following after it.

An immeasurable quantity of time elapsed before the harbinger of my destruction halted. Satisfied with the current environment, it turned to confront me. Its grin widened as it sprawled its arms horizontally. The surrounding darkness shimmered responsively, and the former began utilizing the vast amounts of the latter to expand.

A sudden torrent of ferocious, animalistic growls permeated the space. Straining my ears, I attempted to focus my attention on an unidentifiable source of words. Their intelligibility was increasing correlatively with the magnitude of the steadily growing titan before me.

"-Knew I'd catch you here! You're in a whole world of trouble," The indistinguishable voice erupted from the augmenting bastion. Its size had grown inordinately; my devastation was imminent. "I'm going to teach you a thing or two about _respect._"  
A gargantuan protuberance of darkness was thrust with lethal precision in my direction. Due to the monumental restrictions enveloping my somatic control, I could only await the impact with a wild grimace.

The physical manifestation connected with my body, impelling the entirety of my being to the floor; crushing my resistance.  
As the remnants of my optimism began to fade, a revelation captured my attention: a reprieve in a vocalised form.  
"Roy? Roy! What are you doing!?" The disembodied voice restored partial control of my limbs; a flame flickered within my eyes. The force with which I was being compressed eased; cognizance permeated me as a moment of opportunity presented itself.

Using the expedient influx of motivation currently invigorating my body, I attempted to gain leverage; forcing an adjustment in my position. Placing my hands and knees parallel to each other, I assertively pushed my back against the concentrated darkness. Despite its size, I managed to elevate my position enough to gracefully detach myself from its oppression.

I raised my head, observing the revolutionary alterations taking place. Blindingly beautiful streaks of irreproachable light were fragmenting the horizon of darkness; utterly devastating it in the process. The source of my anxiety expressed unequivocal agitation as it witnessed its potential ruin drawing near. Voices suggesting heightened tension continued to reverberate around me.

"Do not interfere. Ludwig can't protect either of you here."  
"Roy. Take your hands away from him. He's sleeping! If you engage him further anything could- Roy! Stop!"

Progressions in the scenario continued – the angelic lights persistently assailed the feeble attempts of resistance the darkness put in place. But the source, within its apparent terror, had come to the decisive realisation that my eradication was its only way of maintaining supremacy; it was now advancing on me with a malicious grin. Its deadly embrace was still apparent within me: my movement was still vaguely suppressed, ruining my hopes of circumvention.

"I won't repeat myself again. Do _not_ interfere – mind your own business."  
"Iggy _is_ my business. I mean it, your ignorance will inevitably deliver your own destruction! Iggy is in a state of categorical instability right now; he has no control over his actions! You have to stop- unf." The distinctive sound of a formidable assault resounded.  
"You should have gone back to bed."

Indignation fuelled the sudden rage inspired within me. Although unable to detect plausible reasoning behind my compelling desire to extirpate the darkness, I became fully intent on doing so. The source had bridged the mental fissure separating us, and while the lights above were having an enervating effect on its capabilities, its enfeebling grip upon me was still exceptional. But backing down was out with my present understanding.

An onslaught of ensnaring tendrils began whipping assorted segments of my body; snagging on my bare skin. I refused to allow suffering to demoralise me, and as my resentment influenced an exponential increase in my flow of adrenalin, the physical torment thoroughly abated. Within my flourishing compulsion for rebellion, a regenerative warmth restored my remaining functions – my movement no longer lacked fluency.

In a ceaseless endeavour to subjugate my fears, I viciously thrashed my arms in correspondence to the tendrils assaults; rendering their attempts useless. The barrage of tendrils reactively gained momentum as animalistic noises continued to penetrate my mind. While their volume engulfed a copious amount of my auditory capabilities, among them I could somewhat make out desperately charged pleas.

"Roy! For your own sake, stop! You have no idea what you're-"  
"_**Shut up**__!_"

Bombarding blackened tendrils continued their hysterical frenzy, consumed by unmitigated loathing. The grin originally etched into the deadened face of the source had contorted into an expression of heightened savagery as its distress peaked.

I continuously deflected its tendrils, seeking an opportunity of counter offence. But despite my rallied determination, the tendrils soon began to overpower me. Perspiration trickled down my left temple; blood flowed freely from a laceration beneath my right eye. Surrendering at this stage signified my destruction; I refused to capitulate to my own insanity. It was my responsibility to suppress it; thus, liberating me of my harrowing affliction.

In a terminal attempt to slaughter my resolve, one of the largest tendrils descended irrevocably towards me, aimed straight for my head.  
"Roy! No!" The disembodied voice screamed. The tendril continued, its velocity increasing with every passing moment. Time, on the other hand, decelerated to a complete standstill. Apprehension crippled me as recognition of the magnitude surrounding the situation dawned on me: allowing the murderous tendril to connect would surely represent my demise.

The pinnacle of the deadly duel commenced as I desperately raked my arm horizontally, delving deep into the remaining depths of my newly established vigour; striving for deliverance. Time restored to its usual circulation as the tendril was severed; writhing deplorably below me until inevitably claimed by stillness.

The source sedately smiled at me before evaporating. In response to its eradication, the entirety of the ethereal plain began to crack; the originally translucent walls collapsed around me. The floor rumbled with sudden aggression, causing my equilibrium to dissipate. The ground diminished to nothingness, and I was plummeting through vast oblivion, devoid of tranquillity. My torment peaked, and I continued to fall for a lifetime. But salvation awaited me: in the distance shone a brilliant light, lovingly beckoning towards me. The distance separating us was rapidly decreasing; my heart, racing. It was within reaching distance – serenity had found me-

"Iggy! Wake up!"

Consciousness ravaged my paradise.

"W-what...?" I blindly raised a hand, seeking the source of the agony rupturing my head and impairing my vision. An excessive amount of heat was flushing my face, as burning liquid trickled from the laceration received in my dream. The smell of metallic copper promptly pervaded my nostrils. I wrinkled my nose in abhorrence, attempting to determine the reasoning behind how the injuries I sustained had carried through to reality.

Hesitantly lowering my head, I observed the remainder of my body. Cooling blood moistened a substantial amount of my torso, hands, and claws. My perplexity increased. The bewildering amount of blood encompassing my body would undoubtedly require a tremendous mutilation to justify it; no such mutilation existed upon my body.

My unspoken query was responded to visually, in a manner considered utterly reprehensible in my mind. As I lowered my gaze further, I discovered a motionless figure, sprawled across the floor; rendered crimson.

Panic interrupted all other processes flowing through my mind. Unable to decipher scrupulous details, I rotated my head, searching for my glasses. I spotted them discarded mere feet away, miraculously less damaged than myself.

As my vision regained competency, my fretful gaze fell upon Roy's corpse. His glazed eyes were glaring at me, bereft of life; his sunglasses, askew. Abrasions I assumed delivered by me desecrated his mangled body; however, the mutilation that propelled my mind into veritable trauma deformed his throat. My composure deserted me; I collapsed to the floor, convulsing and retching violently.

Iggy...?" The melodic voice resonated, partially curing my ailments. My retching ceased, and I raised my head in search of my empirical remedy. Lemmy was positioned relatively close, observing me, solace prominent in his expression. Blood was trickling from his nose; his right eye was currently rendered inactive by discolouration suggesting inevitable bruising.  
"D-did I do this to you!?" I shrieked, dread harshly affecting my stability.  
"No... No. It was Roy," He muttered dismissively. His equanimity was currently unmatched, contrasting violently with my hysteria.

"What happened? Please, I was in your room! How did I get here, why is Roy d-!?"  
"Iggy. Please, calm down," Lemmy cut me off, approaching cautiously.  
"Calm down!? Roy is de- mmf!" My frantic speech was muffled as Lemmy embraced me, disregarding the blood covering my body. My attempts at conversing deteriorated into remorseful sobs. Lemmy tightened his supportive grip, alleviating a miniscule portion of my mental derangement.  
"Shh. Everything is going to be all right. Not a single bit of this is your fault."

Lemmy described the previously transpired events from his perspective. He explained how upon stirring he immediately became aware of my absence. Fearing for my well-being, he pursued, searching the corridors. Within minutes, he detected a provocation, and heard Roy's aggravated voice. Upon rounding the corner, and witnessing Roy's potential immorality, he attempted to intervene.

"Your awareness of the situation was non-existent, considering you were sleeping. Roy's discernment was inadequate to say the least. Even he should have known better than to have attacked a sleep walking Dragon Koopa. I tried to stop him, and this is the result." He gestured towards his injuries, reaffirming the reasoning behind their presence.  
"B-but ... I killed him!" I whined solemnly, tears flowing unimpeded down my face.  
"Iggy. Look at me." Our eyes met, Lemmy's form shimmering through my tears. "As soon as I witnessed the potential confrontation between the two of you, I was made aware of the fact no matter the outcome of your struggle, death would claim one of you. Roy was exceedingly serious; engulfed by hatred. And his eyes... they weren't his own. I dare-say he was entirely consumed by lunacy. Nothing I attempted to say impacted on him in a positive way, it just expanded his rage." Tears continued to heavily impinge upon my visual clarity as I stared forlornly at Roy's limp form.

"I descended into an ultimate progression of my dream. That's perhaps the reason behind my sleepwalking." I described every progression within the delusion, explaining the source's adamant attempts of eradicating me, its superlative consternation regarding the light, and the conflict that followed. I deliberately refrained from relaying the details of the final scene. My consideration of the meaning behind it was jarring; the mere thought of discussion regarding it repulsed me.

Lemmy listened, staring profoundly out into the dawning sun. After my explanation finished he lowered himself beside me, resting his head on my arm with a luxuriate expression; continuing to observe unmatched beauty outside. Sun rays were scarcely imagined in Darkland; hence, its name. I flinched as he suddenly shattered the silence.

"In my opinion, it's possible your unconscious mind was giving you an accurate representation of what was happening around you. The darkness and its source... reflected Roy; the light in this particular instance reflected myself. You painstakingly fought and destroyed the source of your crippled stability... Roy." My eyes widened in realisation.  
"Y-you're right! Roy _was_ indefinitely the source of my constant apprehension. So… when you said you had a theory-"  
"Yes. That's right, I knew Roy was the root of your problem. Resultantly, I undertook the task of sedating him, using Ludwig as a potential threat. And while it somewhat effectively suppressed his behaviour, he was persistent. When he reduced you to tears last night I threatened him again. Yet still, his treachery continued this morning, consequently costing him his life."

Upon finishing, Lemmy's expression darkened. "As irritating as it will be, it's imperative we explain this to... him." My eyes dilated; my bloodstream froze, previous terror reforming. Bowser's indignant fury was imminent. "It's all right. Don't panic," Lemmy continued, observing my deteriorated body language. "Iggy. This is in no way your fault." He clasped my hand, squeezing it bracingly. "We have stood up to Bowser since infancy. This is just another obstacle."  
"Involving the death of a family member; his _favourite_ family member," I whined.  
"_You_ needn't explain anything to him. As far as he will be concerned, you were ignorant of your predicament – you were in a semi-permanent state of psychosis. _I_ will take care of the eloquent story analysis. It's time I informed Bowser of his 'favourite family member's' dedication to debilitating you, his near-succession in breaking you, and of how his death was righteously justified."

Lemmy's sympathy for Roy was insubstantial, striking me as a deviation from his general buoyancy. It came as no surprise, considering his previous resentment. If anything, Roy's death signified the emphatic development of closure for both Lemmy and me. Regardless, curiosity conquered my mentality.  
"Lemmy...?" He raised his head, "All things considered... Are you upset over Roy's death?" My voice precariously trembled. Lemmy searched my expression for some time. I was oblivious to what he was attempting to discover.  
He opened his mouth hesitantly, "Yes... I am, to a small degree. Possibly not as much as I should be. But I can't immediately forgive him for his duplicity, nor his deplorable behaviour towards you. Perhaps it will come with time. But right now, even in death, he disgusts me."

Lemmy consolidated my own feelings. My grief over Roy's death was derived of unjustified guilt, considering my lack of initial knowledge encircling his immutable death – I acted unconsciously and defensively. My own sympathy, however, I could not detect. Not as things currently stood.  
"Thank you, Lemmy. What you just said... really helped me," I mused. "And I agree. Right now, my sympathy for Roy Koopa is meagre. It seems callous to say aloud, but the truth cannot be helped."

Seconds blurred into minutes; minutes blurred into an immoderate accumulation of pleasurable diversion, as Lemmy and I disdainfully disregarded our obligation to notify Bowser of Roy's recent demise.

"Iggy. As tranquil as this is, we need to sort this before I fall unconscious on you."  
"Shouldn't we wait until morning? It's really late, is it not?"  
"Iggy... It _is_ morning. We need to do this now – I want to remember every detail. Don't be worried about waking anyone up, because I'm sure the whole castle will have heard us."  
"They might've fallen asleep again by now."  
"Well, frankly, if _he_ is sleeping, he's about to receive an inflammatory wake up call." Lemmy laboriously arose, beckoning to me in the process. I blinked at him, exasperated by the inequitable situation. Borrowing stockpiled will from the previous confrontation, I appreciatively accepted Lemmy's hand, and emulated him.  
"All right. We're ready," Lemmy grumbled. "I know you're still perturbed, but just remember: I'll always be there for you; I'm going to fix this."

The journey to Bowser's chamber was needlessly lengthened by my own lack of speed. But we soon arrived outside the imposing wooden entrance. Requiring a moment of composition, I inhaled and sustained a tranquillising breath.

Prolonging the inevitable began to cause more distress than its merit justified. So I motioned to Lemmy, who nodded, knocking sharply on the door.  
A gruff, jaded voice grunted in response, "Is it important?"  
"Very," Lemmy snapped. Refusing to acknowledge Bowser's potential refusal of our admittance, he forcefully pushed on the door. It groaned bitterly with every passing moment, piercing my mind. Lemmy's denial of Bowser's regulations increased my tension. Bowser seemed perfectly placid as we entered, however.  
"Perhaps you are here to explain the noise?" He was situated with deteriorated posture at a sizeable desk, his elbows propped against its surface, acting as a bolster for his head's precarious positioning.  
"I- _we_ are, indeed. The explanation behind the noise has a source dating well before the present day. I'm going to have to ask that you refrain from interrupting with any form of questioning until the full story has been relayed. Clear?"

Lemmy was generally impetuous; seldom was he seen serious. But while addressing Bowser, it was as though an alternative personality had suppressed his blithe penchant; Bowser seemed utterly mystified at being confronted so aggressively by him. Despite his perceptible scepticism, I assumed he labelled this a subject deserving of his attention, as he elevated his heavy head, intent on contemplating us.

His expression modified, his confusion concentrating into unmitigated perplexity. His body language suggested he may inquire into the reasoning behind our current state. After all, Lemmy was sporting a blackened right eye, and I was adorned by crimson.  
"I will get to that," Lemmy answered the unspoken enquiry. Bowser hesitantly bowed his head.

Lemmy began delivering the maximum extent of Roy's mistreatment of me in an auditory fashion. The story distinctly lacked discretion, but purposefully – he was effectively scalding Bowser. I was awestruck by the prowess encapsulating his wording. He imparted the details from his own perception of how the past ten years transpired in a compressed, yet beautifully detailed deluge of loathing. Every conceivable amount of accountability was assigned to Roy, while I was vindicated of blame. The limits of my composure were unduly strained; I fought to keep an impartial expression. Lemmy's articulation was flawless, and his resolve affectionate.

Bowser respectfully listened to Lemmy's account, abstaining from intervention as Lemmy had requested. His expression was vague, and lacking particular interest. But upon the disclosure of Roy's death, a strenuous breath caught in his throat.  
"Roy... Dead?" He asked, massaging his head.  
"Yes. I informed you in the beginning: this story was painstaking for everyone involved," Lemmy replied shortly. "Roy terrorized Iggy obstinately for years; this morning, he attempted another murderous assault, and he suffered for it."

Motionless silence ensued, Bowser seemed utterly engrossed within a reverie. And as his head raised once more, he fixed his emotionless leer on me.  
"Is everything Lemmy has said accurate, Iggy?" I confirmed, bowing my head. "That being the case, how am I to rest assured you will not murder any other child of mine?" Air propelled out of my mouth rapidly. The question knocked every ounce of optimism from me.

"Are you kidding me?" Four eyes fell upon Lemmy, who was now seething. "Were you listening? I dare-say from your generally nonchalant expression you only heard what you wanted to. Iggy acted in self-defence, and he wasn't even aware of it! He didn't _murder_ anyone!"  
"But the question remains, Lemmy, will he kill anyone else in... 'self-defence'?"  
Lemmy took a deep breath before answering, "I _just_ told you. Roy attacked Iggy for years, leading to the dreams I described. Those caused the psychosis, and in turn, Roy's death. No one else in our family tortures Iggy for _personal amusement._" Lemmy's eloquence continued to spike exponentially, correlating with his irritation. Bowser's attentive capabilities had also increased as a result.

"Iggy's dream was directly linked to the situation around him; Roy represented the darkness. For years Roy has literally beaten Iggy to within an inch of his life, and Iggy was too scared to reach out to anyone. When I offered him _my_ services in dealing with Roy, he refused them. Do you know why? It was because he is also terrified of _you_. He used to be carefree, and now he can barely go anywhere without me. Surely the paralysing fear that has captivated Iggy's very being for the past ten years could eventually, under immense strain, have realistically led to the symptoms I have recently described." It was then understanding dawned on me. Lemmy was currently relieving himself of ten years' worth of suppressed frustration. Tears threatened me as I perceived the limitless anguish he had suffered.

"Hell, if it wasn't for me, the damage to Iggy's psyche would surely be irreparable! And while this was going on, you simply sat in your office; performing your 'all-important' duties that just lead to more people needlessly dying. Well, today someone you truly cared about has perished due to your own selfish desires. Your own indiscretion is partly to blame; things spiralled out of control and the repercussions you are now being forced to suffer are yours to bear."

Lemmy's fulmination drew to a close; his breathing quickened slightly as he glared with the burning intensity of a forest fire directly into Bowser's eyes. We three each were suspended in a timeless void, bereft of any noise bar the accelerated thumping of my own heart. The tension was palpable as my protagonist and antagonist clashed in a mental struggle. Daring to release the breath held captive within me would be unadvised. Indispensable seconds ticked by before Bowser finally lowered his gaze.

"All right, Lemmy; Iggy. I'm going to believe the both of you, as you have never given me a reason not to; any conclusion I come to of my own terms right now would be considered a prejudiced conjecture. Be that as it may, should another incident of this magnitude reoccur in the future, _you_ will receive full responsibility for Iggy's actions, Lemmy. Remember that."  
Lemmy almost viciously nodded. "That is fair enough."  
Bowser nodded acceptingly before continuing. "I shall have my staff... deal... with Roy's body in the immediate future. I shall also arrange a funeral within the next few weeks. I expect each of you to attend. Don't worry yourself with explaining the situation to your siblings. I shall do so myself," He mumbled with an air of finality. He then signalled we should evacuate his quarters, allowing him time to mourn.

We traversed the corridors a final time, bound for Lemmy's room. I could barely contain the euphoric ecstasy thriving within the silence. Once within the protective embrace of our shelter, I pulled Lemmy into an embrace of my own.  
"L-Lemmy! I don't really know what to say! My thought process has been fettered by excitement! You actually silver-tongued your- _our_ way to deliverance!" My expression faltered as my earlier thoughts resurfaced. "Oh, but, Lemmy. I'm so sorry... You suffered so much. I never really even realised-"  
"Iggy... If it had distressed me more than I could handle, I would have told you." He smiled at me, diminishing my culpability. I continued to excitedly ramble over Lemmy's elocution under the pressure inspired by potential punishment.  
"Something just came over me, Iggy. To allow you to receive any blame was simply inconceivable to me. I couldn't allow Roy the last laugh." His smile widened, and I grinned in harmony. My contentment was higher than it had been in an indefinite amount of years; the closure finally suffused. Self-reproach continued to affect me as the reality behind my happiness set in – Roy's death. But I unburdened myself with the counter-argument based around the reasoning surrounding his death.  
"He's gone, Lemmy... He's actually gone," I exclaimed, sobs building in my throat; sobs composed from happiness.  
"I know, Iggy. Things are only going to get better from here on out."


	6. A New World

_**Chapter Two: Ever Changing World.**_

I tentatively traipsed across unforgiving rock, stumbling in the artificial darkness. "Lemmy... R-really, how much further is it? My feet are getting caught!" I stammered.  
"Not... much further now, it's just up this incline... Come on!" Lemmy replied huskily, steering me across the desolate wastes of Dark Land; ensuring I refrained from overbalancing. His exhilaration was thrillingly infectious – the rock lessened in its inhibition under his influential affection.

Lemmy was currently escorting me to a recent discovery he had made – first having spotted its potential from a particularly elevated window. His passion acted as a stimulant, ensuring my collaboration in his endeavour of revelation. However, for the full effect to be achieved, he deemed a blindfold necessary.

Misgivings partially overpowered me – considering Dark Land had never harboured beauty, or interest, of any description. What could Lemmy have uncovered to cause him such attraction? My apprehension was responded to kinaesthetically: the jagged terrain underfoot altered to one inspiring a prickling sensation. A sensation I had long since forgotten about; unprecedented in the deadened expanse we inhabited. "Lemmy, is this... grass?"

"Abandon the visual hindrance, Iggy! The blindfold! Quickly!" Lemmy exclaimed. I struggled with the blindfold, my dexterity destroyed by lack of visuals. "Here, bend down, will you?" I conformed – lowering myself to the prickly ground. Lemmy's hands proficiently adjusted and removed the ligature constraining my perception, mindfully holding it fast; increasing my restlessness.

"Are you ready, Iggy? Brace yourself." I indicated my security of mind, and Lemmy allowed the blindfold to descend.

The environment assaulted my senses, overwhelming my composure. My eyes broadened; my mouth hung ajar. Defiance of logic spread before me. I began vigorously rubbing my eyes, ceaselessly attempting to awaken. A state of delirium enveloped me; Lemmy's amusement derived of my reaction only added to my ecstasy. "Lemmy. What am I currently observing? The impossibility of this is astounding. How can it-? I don't... what!?" My speech declined to comical blathering.

Exuberant acres of vegetation characterised by their green shade stretched interminably, further than my perception could register. The infinite pasture was separated into its own portion of reality by a tree line stood parallel; ever-expanding vertically into the distance.

The entirety of the vivacious plane was shimmering under the influence of sun rays, unhindered by velvet clouds draping the horizon; endowing it with an ambient atmosphere. Morning dew increased the intensity of the luminosity, as light spun in an eternal dance; emitting radiance.

A moderate breeze imbued the landscape, and with it pervaded the invigorating scent of flora, wafted from the hills they occupied in the distance. Saliva began pooling at the forefront of my gullet, impossible to prevent as the alluring fragrance seduced me.

I whirled curiously, contemplating the unaffected condition of Dark Land. Its darkened clouds still hung like oversized, hellish globules, casting their elongated shadows across the Empire. Its terrain was deprived of life – lava threateningly bubbled – nothing had altered in correlation to the inexplicable evolution behind me. Meticulous observation revealed the knowledge of a distinct line conjoining the two sectors; it was as though they were an abnormal amalgam of contrast: life and death.

Repulsive whiffs of suplhur menacingly circled my nose, causing me to turn, seeking my previous pleasure. I fixated my gaze on the grass. Its pigment struck me as unconventional; it seemed _too_ green – as though painted. Recollection of several paintings lining the castle's walls caused apprehension to resurface. Surely paranoia was crippling me. However, the materialisation of vegetation implying such extensive rejuvenation of the barren land we were accustomed to was surely improbable.

"In all honestly I have little inclination as to the reasoning behind its appearance, either." Lemmy's announcement crushed my reverie, dragging me back to reality. "I just spotted it from the window, and when I rushed out here, seeking it for the sake of my own sanity, found it to be no mere hallucination." His amusement increased as my mouth continued to limply hang.

"It's relatively apparent it has just... occurred recently of its own prerogative. I mean, we explored the entirety of Dark Land as children, striving to discover _anything_ considered green," I exclaimed, determined to locate a corroborative conclusion.  
"Absolutely. I'm not doubting that," Lemmy affirmed. "I'm under the impression I have a somewhat coherent explanation: in our library was a dated tome; within its pages lay clarification of outlandish occurrences, such as this one. Now... What did it say...?" He bowed his head for a moment, mumbling illegible musings. "All right. It said, 'due to an external power, some environments have been known to alter almost overnight'. In accordance with that book, it's perfectly feasible what we're witnessing just... popped up, so to speak."

I tilted my head, considering Lemmy's statement. It seemed to correspond with my earlier misgivings regarding the unnatural appearance surrounding the pasture.  
"Lemmy, can you remember what this book, or more specifically, what the external source was called?" Lemmy grimaced before turning, engrossed in the horizon. Lengthened seconds passed before he shook his head.  
"...No. I'm sorry, but right now I'm drawing a blank."

No previous existence of circumstances emulating the environmental modifications exposed here struck me. But my geographical knowledge lacked potency due to the isolated life of Dark Land. That, and the world's apparent resentment when issued with anything Bowser related, limiting our opportunities for exploration. Therefore, no irrefutable explanation currently existed behind this monumental change.  
I surrendered to uncertainty, sighing. "All right. It cannot be helped."  
"Want to give this some further inspection before delving? You seem worried." Lemmy addressed me with an air of forbearance.  
"I am... Be that as it may, if what you claim is correct, this may just revert by tomorrow. And I'm aware you're practically begging me to explore it with you internally." Lemmy reddened, grinning at my close surveillance. "So, let's go!"

Two months had passed following Roy's burial. On a day bereft of illumination provided by the sun, Roy's body was committed to barren soil. Misery permeated the air like a virus. Family, and staff alike, were grief-stricken by the loss. Statements were made; remembrances and homage were paid to Roy's acceptable attributes. And as we departed, abandoning afflicted memories, fulfilment empowered my being. Sorrow was prominent within me, acquired vicariously from my surroundings, but the exhilaration flowing through me could not so easily be suppressed: my bane had fully lamented.

Subsequent to Roy's removal, my well-being improved vastly. The dreams were vanquished along with their origin, and as the probability of someone assaulting me decreased to nothing, my aplomb returned marginally. Lemmy helped it flourish, considering his audacity was outstanding. Lemmy and I decided upon the perpetual arrangement of our lodgings together, and integrated our belongings into one space. This guaranteed my imminent safeguard, should a breach of my mind occur.

Anxiety was still sourced within the castle; two of my siblings in particular were plunged into indubitable hysteria upon discovering me within their vicinity. Larry - being cunning and intelligent - gathered of his own accord the reasoning behind Roy's death. Our bond kindled as a result; he harboured respect for my actions, and was equally relieved Roy was gone. Ludwig understood the situation and held an impartial opinion. Bowser Junior was seemingly too immature to recognise the underlying gravity. Perhaps it was plausible, in his mind, Roy would return with time.

Wendy and Morton were under the ludicrous impression I would brutally execute them upon locking eyes with me.  
Lemmy assured me: "_Time heals all wounds, Iggy. Even ones self-inflicted by stupidity. With experience to disprove their theories, they will eventually realise their miscalculation._"  
I was partially unfazed by their distrust. I gave little consideration to their mannerisms in the first place; I defiantly attempted to disregard their neurotic acknowledgement of me.

That morning, despite my attempts of ignorance, I became aware of Wendy's excessively dramatised reaction against my will. As I crossed the threshold within the dining hall for breakfast, Wendy let out a pretentious screech and promptly vanished from the room upon spotting me. Anguish filled her composure, just as it had mine around Roy. And although Wendy's terror was unjustified, it harshly affected me. Lemmy noticed my tears dripping onto the table, and suggested we abandon breakfast. He then escorted me to the safety provided by solitude.

"_Look, there's little I can say, Iggy. She's the quintessential brat of the family: attention-seeking, whiny; irritating. She's an adolescent female among males, and she's not exactly very intelligent_," Lemmy declared exasperatedly; "_Don't take it personally – she's just looking for attention, as per usual._" Regardless of Lemmy's consoling statements, my necessity for assurance extended further. The heavy flow had ceased, but my glum expression prevailed.

Lemmy examined my despondent countenance, determined to expel it. "_There's something I want to show you; something I vaguely detected yesterday. I know you'll appreciate it. But it has to remain spontaneous; that way it will surely succour your melancholy perspective._" He scanned our lodgings, searching for a suitable deliverer of spontaneity. He settled for a blindfold he often used for practising acrobatics. He gestured, seeking my approval. I bowed my head nonchalantly, encouraging a grin from him. He retrieved it from a wooden desk, adjacent to the entrance, before grappling my arm with his usual ebullience. "_Let's go_!"

Lemmy then evacuated our chambers, my gangling form in tow. He zealously dragged me from corridor to corridor; to the castle gates. It was then our expedition of disclosure commenced, as he blinded me, reassuring me of the adventure's worth.

Lemmy mimicked his previous behaviour, grabbing my hand and bounding into the haven. Although his strides covered considerably less distance, my lengthened strides failed to prevent me from jerking; his momentum heavily augmented my own. His energy was immeasurable.

As we progressed into the unknown, an aura of light encased us. The glistening droplets continued dancing, casting blinding light in every direction. I squinted in the light, slowing down and attempting to regain visual limpidity. Unwelcome flashbacks invaded, of lights engulfed by darkness.  
"L-Lemmy...!" He stopped, pivoting to scrutinise my adjusted body language. "I'm not dreaming?" Lemmy gawked for a moment, shifting his eyes. Realisation abruptly developed in his features.  
"I can assure you with utmost certainty, Iggy, that we are currently exploring an unknown land within reality." I realised upon bowing my head, Lemmy was undoubtedly correct – the vast amounts of detail I was able to comprehend attested to this.

"It's not astonishing you're making unwanted connections, even if unconsciously. Are you sure you can withstand being here?" I indicated forward, nodding vigorously. Candidly, I was enamoured at the prospect of spending an uninterrupted day with Lemmy, secretly concealed within a glade. "All right. How about we explore that lightly forested section?" He pointed, and I narrowed my eyes – following his finger. "It looks as if there's a sheltered valley."  
"Valleys generally indicate water; I need some," I concurred, as we shared a noiseless moment of gratification.

Lemmy resumed tugging my arm effortlessly, dragging me through the dampened grass. Compact minutes passed, shortened by avidity, before our arrival at the hem. Spread before us lay a sprawling ravine, soothingly silent bar the burbling of an endearing stream. Lining its edges were flowers similar to those adorning the hills adjacent to us.

I hunched down, seeking the flowing water. Its piercing temperature caused a pleasurable shudder to vibrate upwards from the base of my spine. Lemmy's energy levels were seemingly in peak condition, regardless of the previous trek. But he gratefully slurped the water straight from the stream.  
I caught his gaze, and he giggled. "You looked like you were enjoying it, so I decided to indulge." I smiled, reducing the temperature by splashing water over my face, before signalling I was ready to continue.

"This stream will surely have a pool to accommodate it!" Lemmy motioned towards the direction the stream was infinitely flowing. We pursued the stream down the narrowing valley, eventually discovering a relatively large tunnel. The water elevated, broadening at the gaping maw serving as an entrance; sweeping down into obscurity. The descending grotto generated a natural slide.  
"It appears the future of our travels is ambiguous; dependant on our decision." Lemmy pointed directly above us; "We can transcend this hill, or, we can take a chance and descend through this tunnel!" He finished, grinning at me with a discernible gleam embellishing his eyes. My awareness of his desires inspired sudden impulses within me. I grinned responsively, adjusting my posture to perform rash action.  
"All right, then. Let's go!" I exclaimed, grabbing Lemmy and plunging down the tunnel.

Extended moments passed as everything reduced to oblivion; my vision deserted me. The agitation attempting to disrupt my entertainment was all but shunned as Lemmy and I raucously chortled the entirety of the journey. Due to the circular dimensions of the tunnel, a fitting acoustic was provided; our laughter rebounded all around us, increasing our fervency to fever pitch.

Blinding daylight shone ahead, indicating our imminent egression. My heart lurched as we began our descent, instant panic followed by instant relief as we safely settled into a moderately large body of water. Upon breaking the water's crystal surface I tossed my head back, swallowing gulps of beautifully healthy air.

Lemmy submerged himself further, gliding underneath me for some time before surfacing within close proximity of me. I raised my eyebrows playfully, proud of my rash actions.  
Lemmy pouted. "You gave me a fright – that was so sudden; so unlike you!" He laughed, attempting an artificially irritated expression; only succeeding in increasing his amusement.  
"I'm not sorry," I retorted, cunningly grinning; "_That,_ was so _fun_!"

I rotated my head, witnessing what could be considered our aspirational discovery. My jaw dropped – the beauty surrounding us easily rivalled the Mushroom Kingdom. The border connecting the pool to land was lined with browned powder-like sand. Different species of trees, many of which bore fruit, provided ample amounts of coverage; encouraging privacy and shade.

Growing from the trees were luxurious green leaves, bathing the area in a softened viridescent hue. Sunlight flowed through cracks in the defences; brilliant rays of light shone upon patches of water, allowing idle bathing. The pool spanned ten metres in diameter; the water gathered in a corner, distinguishable by stacked boulders forming a waterfall. It then continued to stream down, unimpeded by obstacles, composing a snaking stream; luxuriously stretching its fluid body further into the forest.

Contrary to my personal speculation, the pool lacked a detectable current; therefore, relaxing within its embrace was a carefree task. The probability of being swept into rocks was little enough I felt capable of inactivity mentally. In the corner opposite to me, there was a gathering of lily pads that bobbed up and down curiously on the water's surface; creating an almost everlasting ripple-effect as Lemmy propelled himself through the water. I gestured towards the sand, swam in its direction, and removed my glasses, along with my shell. Lemmy followed suite, removing his own shell, before resuming his diving session.

I sought a spot illuminated by warming rays, and lounged onto my back, allowing the buoyancy to keep me afloat. I admired the aesthetic atmosphere above; basking in the minuscule glimmers massaging my strained body. Slowly my posture lost its rigidity; it was substituted with partial insensibility.

The back of my mind was suffering heavy assaults; constant niggles of concern prevented me from tranquillisation. A disembodied voice was warning me; acknowledging the fact there were too few examples of fauna to justify realism. Truthfully, Lemmy and I hadn't encountered a single specimen, whereas the Mushroom Kingdom was full to bursting with vigorous wildlife.

I abruptly dismissed this element, attempting to console myself with rebuttal. This environment had cracked into existence with little explanation. Uncertainties lay around every corner; the lack of animals was credibly just another variable which could be a result of the external force said to have conjured this place.

The voice warned me of my bias derived of the perfection enveloping the current situation. But I neglected its warnings for the very reason it assaulted me: everything _was _perfect. Consequentially, I disallowed trivialities to inconvenience me further. My trance was severed as I jerked. Lemmy had stealthily propelled himself towards me, placing his stands upon my stomach.

I elevated my head, intent on viewing him, and encountered his whimsical expression. Still holding my body for leverage, he gained access to my personal space, lifting his body onto mine. I rolled my eyes, exasperated, but his charming demeanour defeated me, forcing a grin into my features. Protestation was unfathomable in my mind, regarding Lemmy's happiness.

"Consider me impressed with your choice, Iggy. This is a fantastic bathing spot."  
"Yeah. It is, unless _someone_ is stealing all your sun!" I sarcastically snapped, laughing in the process.  
Lemmy chuckled above me. "But, you're so comfy!" My laughter increased rampantly, causing my composure to falter. The water reacted unforgivingly, and my altitude dropped.  
"All right, let's regulate this marginally!" I exclaimed, through rasping breaths, attempting to mitigate my amusement. "The intensity of my laughter correlates with my position in the water; my buoyancy isn't high enough for me to float under these circumstances!"  
"The ship is inundated!? Stability compromised! Protective procedures, activate!" Lemmy shouted, paddling in the direction of the sand.

Liquid invaded my body through my mouth, as I thrashed wildly with laughter; my body ended up fully submerged. Lemmy gracefully detached himself from me, smoothly gliding along the surface above me. I surfaced, gasping for oxygen and spluttering. Lemmy appeared beside me, gently patting my back.  
He lowered the distance between his lips and my ear, and I shuddered as he whispered, "I'm not sorry." He deliberately repeated my previously chosen words to represent his satisfaction.

I smirked, covering him with a sizeable wave. A multitude of minutes transpired, consisting of us launching streams of water in all directions; both attempting to salvage supremacy.  
"Okay, okay! You win!" Lemmy gurgled, covering his face. "This is just like when we race. Your arms are so much longer than mine!" I stretched my arms victoriously, relishing their length.

As I suspended my body limply in the water, I instantly felt the recurrence of hands touching my stomach. "I solemnly assure you, I will refrain from sinking the battleship."

Serenity ensued, as we floated for an inadvertent amount of time within the water. No words were uttered; the only audible noise flowed from the unassuming waterfall, and an intermittent ripple of the water's surface. I gathered the motivation to interrupt the virtually unbreakable silence.  
"It's so tranquil here. A different quality of seclusion fortifies this location. The isolated rooms we have discovered within the castle walls can't possibly compete. The hustle and bustle of an energetic residence cannot be drowned out. But here – there's nothing to penetrate the stillness. I crave more; I hope this place doesn't revert."  
"I agree." Lemmy's satisfied voice was barely audible. "There have been few times within that castle I've reached a level of contentment comparable to now – one of them being immediately subsequent to Roy's death, ironically." Memories of the rising sun, rarely witnessed in Dark Land, filled my mind. It was somewhat horrifying to me that I remembered it fondly.

Requiring a distraction, I aspired to vacate the pool. "Lemmy? Would you mind terribly if we withdraw from the water? That fruit looks appealing." Lemmy removed himself from me carefully in response, beginning treading water towards the sand. I leisurely followed, exhausted from inactivity. My body was sluggish with relaxation, increasing its weight and causing a troublesome adjustment to walking. I lengthened my arms; grasping the sky, and allowing my body to generate energy.

"There's quite a vast selection of fruit, Iggy. Which would you like?" Lemmy asked. I narrowed my eyes, examining each tree carefully. My attention was captured by a particularly small tree. Within its boughs grew bananas – Lemmy's favourite fruit. Keeping my actions verbally confidential, I casually wandered in their direction. Stretching my arms to their limit, I retrieved a bunch accumulating to four. There was little resistance, suggesting - along with their colour - the bananas were perfectly matured.

I swivelled, presenting my decision to Lemmy, who nodded in approval. "Well, Iggy. You certainly know how to spoil me." He stared longingly at the fruit; reflecting a starving hyena eyeing a festering corpse. His stomach roared an ultimatum of imminent appeasement – demanding a sacrifice.  
"My despair prohibited you from consuming an adequate amount this morning, did it not? How much did you manage to eat?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.  
"I only finished one slice of my toast," Lemmy mumbled; "As a result, I just realised I'm utterly starving." His gaze was entirely attached to the fortunate relief in my hands.

I closed the small distance separating a comfortable seating arrangement from me, and lowered my position; propping myself against a thick trunked tree. I invitingly beckoned to Lemmy, patting the ground. He scampered towards me, sighing upon settling underneath my arm. Signifying the inevitable, the sun was opposing our position, beginning its dignified descent. It illuminated the area in a proportionately orange glow. After breaking the bananas into corresponding groups, I handed Lemmy two.

"Thanks!" He acknowledged me cheerfully. His eyes diverted to the delectable nourishment within his grasp. He ravenously removed the primary banana's outer coating before digging his teeth into its delicate skin. I followed his example, sinking my teeth into heaven itself. The flavour was overwhelmingly sweet, creating an angelic taste. I redirected my attention, focusing on Lemmy. His expression suggested he may burst into tears of elation.  
"This is... This is the best banana I have ever had the utmost pleasure of ingesting!" He stated, swallowing the first mouthful. The food we were prepared was almost implausibly satisfying to consume within the castle. But little comparative judgements existed prior to now; neither Lemmy nor I had experienced fruit picked ripe from the tree.

Both bananas were shockingly substantial, and filled me with an unrivalled comfort. My requirement of both food, and a distraction, were fully realised as I oscillated my hand upon my stomach. Lemmy, on the other hand, seemed capable of ingesting a further bunch of his own, leading to my retrieval of supplementary bananas to fully satiate his ravenous appetite.

Darkness began to descend, following the sun's forthcoming withdrawal. And as the daylight ceased in its existence, we declined departure, lying in a closely knit embrace under the protection of a silent sentinel. Unwillingness crippled us as the vast amounts of nourishment began to settle. As the motivation to request movement of Lemmy arose within me, I opened my mouth. But as the words began forming, Lemmy proposed a differing form of action physically. He fragmented our intimacy for a solitary moment. Lowering his head, he gently adjusted his position; coming to rest on my lap.  
"Looks like we're not heading back tonight, then," I whispered, stroking his hair. A small mumble of response sounded.

I adjusted my own position, backing into the tree and hitting the floor. I finally gave in to unconsciousness; everything faded into regressive darkness.


	7. Exposure

Outlines materialised out of blurred obscurity as I awakened – my vision distorted under the effects of exhaustion. Upon lowering my gaze, I noticed Lemmy, still gently breathing into my lap.

I smiled down at him. But raising my eyes from his motionless form caused my fleeting happiness to abruptly dissipate: major alterations had taken place; the entirety of our environment had deviated from its prior climate. No longer was it a lightly forested area with flowing sun rays. It was, instead, a dense, dampened jungle. Imposing, thick trunked trees engulfed any source of light above; casting a number of eerie, jagged shadows. Judging from my lack of exhaustion, I assumed it was morning, yet the darkness was persistent.

"Lemmy... _Lemmy_." I delicately oscillated my hand on his head. "Wake up."  
"Mm?" he slurred, raising an eye.  
"We've slept through some rather... interesting variations," I muttered, grimacing; "I feel it best we both acknowledge our surroundings without disdain."

Lemmy pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes; attempting to awaken fully. After removing his hands, his body stiffened upon exposure to the atmosphere encircling us.

"This... is fascinating," he breathed, fixing his bleary gaze upon me. "It seems we've been inadvertently exposed to another environmental modification."  
I displayed my agreement reluctantly, bowing my head and sighing. "To say we've been caught unaware by this predicament would be an overstatement. We were aware of the circumstantial risks upon arriving." I paused, fixing my eyes to the earthen floor before continuing. "... Still, this is a disconcerting revelation. I blatantly disregarded the possibility of it altering yesterday; I assumed it would endure conversion for some time." I ignored the incessant harassment from the disembodied voice within, as it revelled in its accuracy; reasserting previous warnings.

Lemmy frowned, surveying the area. "From visual deductions, I assume _we_ haven't been relocated. The surrounding area has morphed, ignoring our particular positioning."  
"What gives you that impression?" I asked.  
"Examine our surroundings closely. Exemplification is everywhere: the body of water – its positioning, dimensions and size have remained the same. And, there," he extended his arm, indicating I should follow it; "that tree. It's the banana tree, only it's now overgrown."

I surveyed the meticulous characteristics of the savage glade, soon arriving at an identical theory. Our personal location had remained the same, but its components differed variably. Exponential growth clearly captivated it within the secretive darkness provided by the night, unobserved and undisturbed.

The tropical trees graciously outlining the sheltered pool were replaced by imposing, vine covered ones, casting the striking shadows I had previously noted; ensuring restlessness within me. The pure pool water, previously adorned by lily pads, had degraded; no longer was it fresh and flowing, but stagnant and forlorn.

"Certain unresolved theories are really vexing me," I grumbled, focusing my attention on Lemmy. "Why have these alterations developed now? Dark Land and its adjacent regions have remained unaffected for the entirety or our lives." A perplexed frown encapsulated my features.  
Lemmy seemed equally irresolute, but attempted to deliver assurance. "Well, Iggy, it's all explained by the external force. If I remember correctly, it was an obtainable object. Perhaps it's been sealed away for many years, and someone has finally happened upon it, causing what we're currently experiencing. I'm uncertain of whether or not they're aware of these modifications."

"That's feasible, I suppose," I mumbled, scratching my head. Honestly, no other credible explanation struck me; what Lemmy claimed seemed in direct correspondence with our situation, making it hard to disprove.

As I continued staring bemusedly at the ocean of green, the paintings lining the castle walls invaded my vision once again. Paintings. "Lemmy?" Our eyes locked. "Paintings."  
A bewildered expression met my gaze. "Paintings...?"  
"You said this external force is obtainable; it's an item, yes?" He nodded. "This place, yesterday's landscape... they remind me of paintings."  
Lemmy's eyes widened, a grin appearing in his features. "And what is required to paint?"  
"A paintbrush," I affirmed.

Discerning the cause lifted a substantial weight from my chest, soothing the anxiety that had burrowed its way into my mind. "That would definitely rationalise the spontaneity behind this situation. The tome, I assume, explained the Magic Paintbrush's properties; how it manipulates selected portions within a region, chosen by its wielder." I halted, contemplating my ultimate statement. "But... Who acquired the brush, and by what means?"

I searched Lemmy for further reassurance, but he scoffed. "We needn't be concerned about matters affecting Bowser. We, instead, should focus on evacuating this erratic area. Quickly." He narrowed his eyes, scanning for imminent danger. "Due to the nature of its existence, the intrinsic traits instilled within the wildlife may differ from normality."

He continued peering into the darkness, as though anticipating ferocity itself leaping from its depths. "One influential factor to assimilate concerns the fauna residing within this forest. The species may be divergent to general creatures in Dark Land; it depends on who controls the brush."

I heightened my focus, listening to the primal uproar booming from every direction. "Lemmy... Yesterday I realised there was a distinct lack in fauna. Now this entire forest is alive, and it sounds uninhabitable for us..."

Lemmy placed a bracing hand upon my shoulder. "We should be cautious. I'm not denying that. But the sensational adventure begins, now. This exceeds beautiful landscapes in terms of excitement." A gleam often associated with Lemmy's usual order of ebullient precedence appeared in his eyes, lessening my trepidation. "Do you have your wand?"

I blinked, considering this, before nodding. It was true – I carried my wand within my- "Our shells," I blurted out, frantically searching the area. Lemmy grinned, pointing towards the pond's edge, which had reduced to melancholy mud. Lying - untouched by the shift in climate - on the bleak terrain were two familiar garments. Pressurised air of relief propelled from my mouth, as our greatest form of defence was revealed.

Standing proved difficult following a full night sprawled across the dirt. Lemmy seemed unfazed, considering I acted as his mattress. I stretched the stiffness away before hastily closing the gap separating me from my lifeline, and fitting it to my body. Lemmy emulated me, adjusting his own shell to perfection.

"Right," I began, capturing Lemmy's attention. I rummaged within my shell, attempting to locate my wand. "Found it," I mused. Lemmy smiled, brandishing his own wand. He seemed confident, contrasting with my insecurity. "Can you remember how to harness its power? I'm currently drawing a blank."  
"It's embedded somewhere, Iggy. I'm reasonably confident when we're driven into a corner we'll remember," Lemmy replied gravely.  
"You mean if. I would rather we avoided confrontation," I retorted, leering at my wand intuitively, suspecting it would lunge the moment I withdrew my attention.

"Just remember," Lemmy continued, ignoring my previous statement; "bare minimum, we have claws."

Neither Lemmy nor I had found ourselves in a situation considered hazardous enough to justify the requirement of our wands since the brutal struggle for power involving the heroes of the Mushroom Kingdom. The struggle Bowser forced upon us, derived of his insatiable desire for control.

We were each highly regarded in terms of combat due to our speed. Lemmy used his advantageous balance to increase his velocity while atop his conjured ball. He practised acrobatics, honing the necessary skills into a perfect art, every day; for the sake of procrastination. I was thoroughly out of practise in every sense of combat; I hoped what I lacked in agility could be compensated for with potency, should a threat emerge.

A roar injecting fear into the forest snapped me back to reality – it sounded within close proximity. The authoritarian scream drove the fauna into an immediate state of paralysis; the chaotic uproar subsided. The following silence was so abnormally serene. I could detect the faint rustling of leaves above, the subdued burbling of the river; even Lemmy's steady breathing. The stillness caused a tremble to run the length of my body.

"Let's especially attempt to avoid whatever just uttered that cry. It sounds as though it harbours a voracious appetite to match its size," I whispered, anxiety flaring once more. The extent of the potential threat was beginning to dawn on me.  
Lemmy sighed. "Iggy, don't cripple yourself to such a vast degree with apprehension. We're together: nothing can harm us. Hasn't that always been the case?"

The words rang true, providing a muffle to my wayward thoughts. Lemmy and me against the world. Even Roy failed in his ruthless attempts of harming me under Lemmy's protection. "You're right!" I exclaimed, attempting to perk up. "Anyway, there's little point sitting here. Do you have any inclination regarding which direction we should begin tackling?"

"Well... Taking into account the distance we covered yesterday, the border lies around two kilometres in that direction." He pointed behind us. "But that discounts the possibility of a change in the geographical location." He paused, frowning. "The paintbrush could also have an effect on that, too, if I remember correctly."

I nodded in agreement. "I vaguely remember Kamek telling us a story of soon after the paintbrush was discovered. Something about an entire castle going missing?"  
"Oh, yes!" Lemmy replied jovially. "I cracked up at that." His demeanour reverted to sudden seriousness. "But that revelation could mean terrible news for us, should the entirety of the conjured area have shifted in its location." I grimaced, and as Lemmy caught my degradation, he took my hand. "I'm sure our location will have remained near Dark Land – don't panic just yet. And even if we have been relocated, it just means more exploration!"

Lemmy thrived under risky conditions, considering his bold nature. And despite my timid tendencies he often brought out the madness within. It helped under circumstances knocking me out with my comfort zone, as he opened my eyes to the possibilities involved in dire situations; we balanced each other perfectly.

"One thing that's certain," Lemmy continued; "is that this forest has thickened considerably. Our visibility has suffered as a result. Since we cannot be certain of our location, I suggest we pinpoint a vista. One from which we can ascertain where we are, and whether we're still connected to Dark Land."

He chuckled, facing me. "I know we often complain about how desolate home is. But its barrenness is our ticket out of here – it won't be teeming with trees, making it effortless to detect. Oh, and while referring to trees, attempting to climb them from my perspective would end badly. Even my weight would likely prove too strenuous." He brushed passed me, ambling towards the closest tree with accessible boughs. He placed a hand upon one of its lowest branches, and as he huffed it broke off. "I barely put any weight behind that," he mused. "They're far too brittle." He discarded the limb, throwing it into the deadened pond. I watched its journey, distracted by the serenity it emanated.

"You all right, Iggy?"

I jumped as Lemmy materialised with a concerned expression. "Y-yeah. Just slightly exasperated. This-" I gesticulated to the green density serving as our surroundings, "-is still difficult to process. Lemmy beckoned, and I padded to him; bending down to allow the closeness that followed.  
"Forget what I said about exploration if it's debilitating. We can focus on escaping alone," Lemmy whispered.  
"N-no!" I protested, surprised by his sudden outburst. At this stage I was determined to remain optimistic. "Exploration sounds fun. I just need some adjustment time." Lemmy's subsequent grin upped the tempo of my heart as his contagious exhilaration took effect. He turned, lifting his arms into a luxurious stretch. "Okay, then!"

Lemmy began climbing the hill we had descended by alternative means the day before, turning to ensure I was following. He offered his hand, which I gratefully accepted, and we traversed the steep incline together. The cold imbued morning coupled with my stiffness made Lemmy's aid crucial. My breathing grew heavier with every step until I was physically uncomfortable; my aching back begged for a reprieve.

After arriving at the peak, I lowered myself to the ground, groaning as I did so.  
"I'm sure you'll loosen as we continue, Iggy. Hang in there," Lemmy said, plopping down beside me. "Coincidentally, it would appear this hill lacks the appropriate height requirements."

I glanced forward, contemplating the viewing distance. The treeline far exceeded the height of our current hill, making it impossible to determine whether the area had relocated.

"Two options remain," Lemmy mumbled. "We risk travelling in the general direction of Dark Land in hope of locating it manually, so to speak." He paused, examining my silent reaction. "Or we seek a higher incline, which can likely be located from here. I can already tell you favour the latter. And I feel the former's too large a gamble, too."

I nodded in appreciation, standing up. "Thanks. I'll search for something suitable." Pivoting on the spot allowed me to determine the location of a hill dwarfing our resting spot. The problem associated with this regarded the distance necessitated to reach it; it also lay in the direction opposite the one we assumed Dark Land was in. Further into the dark lay unknown dangers. But the solemn fact remained that this was the case no matter the direction.

I tapped Lemmy's arm, shaking my head.  
"Are there none?" he asked sceptically.  
"Not quite. There's _one._" I hesitated, before extending my arm in its general direction.

Lemmy glanced at it, sighing. "Typical, I was hoping it would be opposite that direction," he grumbled with a jaded frown.  
"I agree." I began pondering ways to lighten Lemmy's distress. "B-but... exploration!" I grinned, and he mimicked me. "That terrifying roar sounded in another direction, too. We needn't worry about that."  
"That's true... So, you are utterly adamant we shouldn't risk venturing towards what we presume is Dark Land?" he asked.  
"Risking losing our bearings in here may result in endless wandering into further obscurity. We don't even know if this forest is finite regarding distance. After all, the paintbrush causes strange effects; it's too ambiguous to justify risk." I tilted my head, recalling the meadow's characteristics. "... Remember the field. The horizon was indeterminable; I couldn't perceive a conclusive boundary."  
Lemmy frowned. "It's not an assumption to be disregarded. The paintbrush's capabilities _are_ boundless, especially if the wielder is aware of them.

The problem is Bowser. Generally our castle is impenetrable – it's fortified with sentinels guarding every entrance. But lately the numbers are dwindling; the soldiers are sparse, as he's deploying them elsewhere needlessly." He yawned, leaning against me. "... It's not impossible for someone, under these circumstances, to have stolen that brush; therefore, its full potential may have been realised."

With some effort, he managed to stand. "Sorry, Iggy. I'm enervating myself with all this conjecture. It's unimportant – we've established an action plan, so let's execute it."

I patted him soothingly, and we set foot upon the beginnings of discovery, advancing along the ridge; adjacent to the quaint valley we originally waltzed through in an alternate existence. Staring down into it, I frowned. The flowing stream was consumed beneath the abundant vegetation. Moss lined the floor, neighboured by trees releasing a faint scent of pine-needles.

"I'm still struggling to comprehend this," I stated. Lemmy followed my gaze.  
"The stream has been engulfed!" he exclaimed. "... I understand it's difficult to apprehend this, especially with your logical thought process. But try and focus on the adventurous aspects, instead. You'll burn out if you continue calculating the impossibilities – this is happening." I nodded. Unfortunately, Lemmy's suggestions were drowned by consternation. "There are no obstacles we can't conquer!" Lemmy continued. "You and I. This is _our _world; nothing else matters." The sentiment within Lemmy's words alone was enough to reinvigorate me. "Now, Iggy. Let's find that hill!"

With Lemmy's stimulative veneration acting as a heavy incentive, I grabbed his hand and we tramped through the congested forest, heading directly for the vista.

An indeterminable amount of time passed as we traversed the marsh filled jungle. Time blurred into the unforgiving environment; everything reduced in clarity as I sunk into a reverie. After some time Lemmy stopped me, directing my attention to the vista we desired, as its adjacent area was now visible.

Surrounding the vantage point was a circular clearing with equidistant dimensions. It was relatively large, making it dangerous.

"No problem, Iggy," came a voice. Lemmy was watching me intently. "The wildlife is still terrified; I doubt any will risk showing themselves." There were a few noises resounding from the braver specimens of fauna, but little enough to justify risk.

"All right," I mumbled. "Still. Remain watchful. This place is chilling."

I gazed up, contemplating where the trees disbanded; seeking the sun above. Darkened clouds lingered miserably overhead, making it impossible to detect. The sun was also lost within the madness.

The howling wind roared with sudden intensity, piercing my blood and reducing it to ice. Until now it lacked substance, but it apparently found its way to this location, congregating within the clearing; forming a discordant chorus of horror. The atonality filled me with dread; overwhelming desires to flee caused adversity within me. I glanced at Lemmy, noting his dissatisfied frown, before ushering him into the one place bereft of trees, aware that I needed to subdue my fears.

We briskly marched, hoping to reach our sole objective – the hill. But the clearing wasn't fully lacking in obstacles.

Stood defensively at the beginning of the elevation was a creature I had never seen outside of books and paintings. Never before had such a creature existed in Dark Land, nor the Mushroom Kingdom.

The animal and I locked eyes, and its hackles raised – it appeared to know me. We continued our approach, halving our speed. Its fur bristled in response; it defiantly turned with large teeth bared, signalling it was disallowing us entry. I turned to Lemmy – his expression was neutral, making it difficult to decipher his feelings. But his wand was clutched tightly to his chest.

Moving as slowly as possible, as to not precipitate unnecessary tension, I lowered myself; leaning near him. "Lemmy..." My voice was barely audible above the roaring wind, causing him to adjust his own position. "I believe that's a wolf."  
"A wolf?" he mumbled, turning to face me. "I was under the impression they travelled in packs..."  
"They do, I think. But look – its stance, its aggression... It has a pack and this is their territory." I glanced at our surroundings, feeling less welcome than ever. "Should we abandon this?"

Lemmy narrowed his eyes, processing my request. "... I think, after the amount of time and energy consumed, we should abandon misgivings and scale that hill." His expression softened. "Perhaps we can reattempt this from another angle. Literally. We can circle around, and circumvent the wolf entirely." I nodded, knowing arguing was unwise – Lemmy was clearly more distressed than he wished to show. I redirected my attention, focusing on the obstacle.

Time ceased, and within the window of perception provided I processed the hostility emanating from the wolf. It was beginning to close the distance separating us, intent on ripping Lemmy apart.

A _thud_ permeated within the clearing, booming across the open space, as the wolf connected with him; digging its claws in his chest. The momentum proved too much; they both began toppling to the floor.

Still suspended in a timeless abyss, devoid of consciousness, I carved my arm in an upward fashion; attempting to rend the creature's throat. A sickening slash sounded, and the wolf stiffened, continuing its path towards the ground. Lemmy landed beneath it, losing every ounce of breath his lungs could provide.

I grabbed the wolf's hulking corpse, which had grown heavy in death. "Help me remove it after three," I yelled, and without awaiting a response I began counting down.

With great difficulty, we managed to elevate the wolf enough for Lemmy to detach himself from underneath. He grimaced noiselessly at the abrasions on his chest. I attempted to regain my breath, desperate to inquire into his wellbeing."...Are you all right!?" I panted, unsure of whether or not to embrace him.

To my astonishment he smiled. "I'm fine, the cuts appear worse than they are. Its bark far outmatched its bite. Knocked the wind from me, though." He wrapped his arms around my waste. "It had little time to accomplish anything, thanks to your expedient reaction time. Resultantly, these marks are nothing. Thank you, Iggy."

I nodded, acknowledging his praise, but noticed him wince. "W-would you like me to carry you?" I asked anxiously.  
"Don't _worry_. I'm being completely honest – I'm fine. They are stinging, that's all." His amusement at my constant concern uplifted my mood; calming my rapid heart rate.  
"It's natural you would be amused," I said, grinning. "But I feel obligated to ensure you're fine. Sometimes you can be vague concerning injuries."

We stared at the dispatched wolf. Blood was pooling around its throat, painting a small portion of the floor with crimson. I found myself lost within a torturous prison, reliving Roy's death; visualising his lifeless stare. Heightened awareness was soon re-established, however, by an unsettling revelation. The wind abruptly petered out, allowing a tremendous amount of noise space to manoeuvre. It circled around us, homing in with alarming precision.

"Let's not get complacent," Lemmy mused coolly. "Here comes the real threat."

Infuriated howls were drawing closer with every prolonged second.


End file.
